To Know Oneself
by YarningChick
Summary: Sometimes, in order to find out who you truly are, you need to break a few rules. Or as many as possible; whichever works.
1. The Path

A/N; First off, Happy Halloween! Second off, sorry about taking so long with this story. I think I was in a state of shock by the time I was done, because it wasn't until this week that I've been able to start work on the next one.

As per warning, I'm going to start uploading once every two weeks for the foreseeable future to give me more time to finish and edit the next story.

Hope you like this one! It took me over a year to write it.

**Chapter One: The Path**

_Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?_

_-Garth Nix, 'Abhorsen'_

xxXxx

_Why did it have to be so cold here? _

_Naoko flinched, murmured a bit as sleep left, and wrapped her arms around the little girl sleeping next to her. The tiny brunette sighed happily, and cuddled deep into her mother's arms. Naoko could only smile, and open her eyes. Her husband was already out of the fur-laden bed that the three of them shared, pulling on his boots and heavy cloak._

"_Good morning, love," she greeted him with a sleepy smile._

_He grinned back at her, but finished tying the front of his shirt. "Morning, love. I'll be back about the time the sun sets."_

"_Are you certain you don't want me to make breakfast for you first?"_

"_Oh no. If I stop for that, it will be after dark by the time I get back. You know how dangerous this area is, once the sun sets."_

_The little girl yawned in her mother's arms, squirming around as she also woke up. "Papa? Are you going away again? Can I come, too?"_

"_No, sweetheart," her husband sighed, as he always did. "It's not safe for pretty girls like you. Best to stay home, where it's safe."_

_Their daughter made a sound of disappointment, but snuggled close to Naoko. "I never get to go outside."_

_Naoko felt a pang of guilt._

"_It's better this way, sweetheart. Now be a good girl, and do what your mother says," he ordered, his eyes trailing up to the red head, a somewhat silly smile slipping onto his rather ordinary features._

_She smiled back in the same manner, and beckoned to him with one finger as she stood up from the furry bed._

_Almost as if he was on a string, the man came closer to her, and wrapped her into a soft embrace and a loving kiss._

_It was the kind of kiss that made her fall in love with him._

"_Hey, what about me?" their daughter pouted, standing up while holding her arms to them. "Don't I get a kiss, too?"_

_Her husband released his hold on her, a foolish grin still on his lips as he picked up their child, and tenderly kissed her cheek while holding her between the two of them. "Always, my angel. Now remember, be good."_

"_Yes, Papa," she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss his cheek._

_After that, he forced himself to leave them; he and his wife had learned by now that left unchecked, their expressions of affection could go on all day. Not that they minded, but he needed to make runs to the village in order to trade his furs for supplies before they ran out. The winters were quite extreme this far north, and it was never a good idea to tempt the weather._

"_We might as well get up too, kitten," Naoko sighed, reaching for her warm outerwear. "Time for breakfast."_

"_Yummy!" Haru squealed, scrambling out of the nest of fur to grab her own day clothes._

_As they dressed by the light of one precious candle, Naoko stared at the quilt she had slept under for most of her marriage. It was a strange one, made completely of fur patches that were arranged in a pleasing design._

_If she were anyone but a trapper's wife, she never would have considered sleeping under such a thing. But she was a trapper's wife, and rather happy about the fact._

_Especially since that fate had given her such a sweet little girl._

"_Mama?" Haru asked as Naoko tied her shirt shut._

"_Call me Mother, sweetheart. But yes?"_

"_Why can't we go outside? What is it like outside?"_

_Naoko stiffened and bit her lip painfully. They had lived in this cave since before Haru was born. She knew nothing but these stone cold walls, and the winding hallway. In fact, she barely even knew the hallway, because it led to outside, which in turn was temptation._

_But… it had been years since Naoko had been outside. She missed the sun, the wind, even if it was so much more bitterly cold than what she had once been used to. She brushed her long hair back, staring at her hand._

_It had received many calluses over the past years. Living in a cave this far from any other people was a hard, lonely life. She worked her fingers to the bone for her family; couldn't she get a small reprieve?_

"_Haru," Naoko said slowly. "If we go outside today, just this once, will you promise not to tell your father?"_

_Haru gasped in delight, actually jumping in place. "Really, Mama? We'll go outside?"_

"_After breakfast," Naoko promised, making the girl sit down so that she could brush her thin brown hair, "and call me Mother, please."_

_The little girl nodded, but she was so excited that Naoko could barely run her favorite comb through the soft hair. Eventually, she just gave up and pulled it into a ponytail, and then did the same to her own hair._

"_Is it time yet?" Haru begged, but Naoko shook her head warmly as she started rummaging through the remaining supplies for a bite to eat. _

_Her own heart was beating with excitement and she was certain Haru wouldn't mind a cold breakfast today. Even better, since it was only slightly warmer in the cave than outside, all her daughter needed was an extra shirt of hers to keep warm._

_After what felt like centuries, Naoko blew out the candle, gently took her young daughter by the hand, and passed through the threadbare curtain that neither of them were allowed to pass through._

_As soon as they came through, a cold breeze kissed Naoko's cheek, as if in greeting. Laughing happily, she guided Haru down the hallway, to the spot of white light that was waiting patiently._

_When they finally came out, the little brunette gasped with surprise and pulled back into the cave. "It's too bright!" she cried out, holding her hands to her eyes._

_The light was also hurting Naoko's eyes, but she could barely care. She was __**outside**__!_

_Keeping her eyes closed for now, the older woman held her arms out as wide as she could, soaking in the sunlight greedily. It was a still, clear day; completely silent. She wasn't used to such silence, but it so lovely out here!_

"_Mama!" Haru kept crying. "It's too bright! Let's go back!"_

"_Oh, but my little kitten! You don't know all the fun we can have out here," Naoko gushed happily, only running back into the cave to drag the little brunette out. "Come on; let's make snow angels!"_

"_Mama, we should go back. It's too quiet," Haru insisted as her mother forced her to walk a distance from the cave, to where her husband was sure to never see._

"_You lie down on the ground just like this," Naoko instructed, helping her onto the thick snow before lying down next to her. "Now move your arms and legs around like me, sweetheart."_

"_Mama, something's wrong," Haru sobbed, unable to move a limb from her fallen state. "Please. Something's wrong."_

_That made Naoko pause. Haru never cried unless she was hurt. Most of the time, her daughter was a sweet and cheerful little girl._

_Naoko sat up and sighed. "Honey, I know it's bright out here, and so much bigger, but I promise you that it's safe."_

"_Then why do I feel so bad? Am I sick?" Haru was begging to know._

_Concerned, Naoko pulled the girl onto her lap and started pressing her hands over the girl's body. "Does this hurt? What about here?"_

"_No, Mama," Haru sobbed, pressing both hands over her heart. "It's here. I hurt here."_

_Naoko bit her lip in dismay. This was possibly her only chance to be outside for several more years, but if her daughter was truly feeling so bad, she should take her back into the cave. _

_But it has been so __**long**__…_

"_Honey, just do one snow angel for me, and we'll go inside."_

_Haru shook her head, still crying terribly. "No, just inside," she insisted, pleading with her mother to give in._

_Before Naoko could so much as open her mouth, a loud roar suddenly filled her ears, one that she knew very well. She gasped in horror, and looked around frantically._

_A giant polar bear was running at them on all fours; its' maw already smeared with the blood of fresh kill._

_Praying that it wasn't her husband's blood, Naoko jumped in front of her daughter and held her arms out to keep her from view. "Haru, run to the cave, now!" she screamed._

_Before her daughter had a chance to answer, the great white bear was practically in front of her, standing to his full height as he rose his paws to kill her. _

_Just as Naoko was raising her arms to protect her face… Haru lunged at the bear, and managed to knock it onto its' back a good few feet from her! _

"_**Stay away from my mama**__!" the little girl snarled in a threatening tone as she rolled off the bear and put up her fists. Instead of the sweet maple color she had inherited from her mother, her eyes were now as red as blood._

_Naoko's blood seemed to freeze over from that tone, and from the eye color. Both of them had long haunted her nightmares. "No! Haru, stop; get away from it!"_

_But neither the bear nor the child was interested in her anymore. Recognizing that the tiny brunette was a threat, the bear rolled onto its legs and used its large paws to try hitting the girl. But Haru was faster than she looked and managed to evade the blows before hopping onto the bear's back to attempt strangling him with her arms. But his neck was far too big for her little arms._

"_**No one threatens my mama**__!" Haru roared, not unlike the bear as it stood to its full height again and tried to pry her off._

_Naoko tried to move. To help her daughter, to run from the bear, from that tone; anything! But she was as frozen as a statue, as her mind unwillingly relived the last time she had heard such an angry commanding voice, and seen such angry, livid eyes. _

_The bear managed to toss Haru from its neck, making her land on the ground. She rolled quickly to avoid getting flattened by her opponent._

_Somehow, Haru got hold of a large rock, but instead of throwing it at the bear, she ran for the steep cliff face of rock that bordered one side of the family cave._

_Haru was running so fast that she was able to actually walk up the side of the cliff before jumping off to land on the bear's back again, since it had made pursuit. As he roared in outrage, the little girl held onto his white fur with one hand, and used the rock to start beating savagely at his neck._

_Before the bear was able to throw her again, an audible crack was heard as she broke his neck. The bear immediately fell to the ground, sending the girl to roll across the snow._

_Naoko stayed exactly where she was, unable to move or take her eyes off her daughter as she slowly sat up with a dizzy expression. Then, to her relief, the red in Haru's eyes faded away until her familiar brown was all that was left._

_As if on cue, the little brunette started crying, worse than she had been before. "Mama," she sobbed, holding her mitten-covered hands to her skull. "My head hurts!"_

"… _I know," was all Naoko could answer that with, her tone laced with horror. But now that her daughter was back to normal, she found the strength to start moving again._

_As she stepped closer to Haru to pick her up, a loud crack of thunder was heard. She looked up in surprise, since it was a crystal clear day; not a single cloud in sight._

_Then a windstorm picked up, sending sharp ice crystals at her face as she managed to pull her daughter into her arms and bury her girl's face into her coat to keep it safe._

"_What have you __**done**__?" a voice shrieked, so much like the banshee stories Naoko used to read about._

_But she didn't answer; doing everything in her power to shield Haru from the ice storm._

_Without a warning, the ice crystals stopped coming at them, choosing instead to make a small tornado close to the bear's corpse. Naoko was unable to look away as a figure began to emerge from the tornado, which faded as the figure took a solid form._

_She was as beautiful as she was pale, as if she had been carved from a piece of ice. Her long white gown sparkled with diamonds, and her long white hair was left to flow elegantly down her shoulders and back. She was also crowned with diamonds, although it was possible that they were icicles._

"_Shiro!" the fairy wailed, throwing herself over the bear's corpse to embrace it around the neck. "My poor Shiro. Who did this to you?" she wept into his fur._

_Naoko looked down at her daughter with horror. It was one thing to kill a random bear. It was completely another to kill a fairy's companion. Their tempers were legendary, as were their punishments._

_Without a second thought, Naoko pushed Haru behind her, and summoned all the courage she had. "I killed him. It's my fault."_

_The fairy looked up at her, her black eyes turning even darker with fury as icy tears continued to flow down her face. She slowly stood up, and walked over to the human in a menacing manner. "Why did you kill my friend?" she snarled as snowflakes began dancing around her fists with fury._

"_He was threatening my daughter-" Naoko tried to say, but inexplicably lost the power of speech as the fairy looked deep into her eyes._

"… _You lie, __**human**__," she sneered. "Just like the rest of your kind; nothing but liars."_

"_I did it," Haru piped up fearfully. "I killed him, not Mama."_

"_Honey, no-" Naoko tried to stop her, but was unable to speak more with another glare from the fairy._

"_Keep silent, human. Her words ring of truth." She snapped her fingers, encasing Naoko's body in ice up to her neck. _

_She gasped from the cold as Haru stumbled to the ground from surprise._

"_Speak again out of turn and I'll let my ice bury you forever," the fairy informed her in a disdainful voice, returning her attention to Haru. Some of her anger seemed to melt away, as she studied the tiny little girl trembling in fear on the snow._

"… _You have berserker blood, don't you child?" the fairy asked in a thoughtful tone._

"_I… I don't know," Haru sobbed, even as her tears turned into ice from the cold. "I just couldn't let him hurt Mama. I love my Mama."_

_The fairy hummed, giving a stern glance to Naoko. "She does, doesn't she?"_

"… _Yes. From my father," Naoko managed to say, though loath to compare her daughter with __**him**__._

_The fairy gave a strange laugh, returning her glance to the child. "I never thought a mere human would be able to kill my beloved Shiro. Look at me, child," she commanded._

_Although Haru was clearly scared to death, she still looked up at the fairy._

"… _Very good. Even without the blood, you're a brave one," she approved, now circling around the child, appraising her._

_Haru kept looking back at her, her large brown eyes wide with horror._

"_Shiro had been my companion for three centuries, child. Even if his temper sometimes got the best of him, he was my friend. Do you have __**any**__ idea what kind of bonds there are, between those to spend centuries together?"_

_Haru kept staring, too terrified to speak._

"_They are powerful. You know, you remind me of Shiro when we first met; an adorable cub with a large temper." Still thinking, the fairy ran her slim fingers through the little girl's soft brown hair, making frost cover parts of it. _

_Haru shivered from the touch, but did nothing to stop the fairy. Naoko could do nothing but watch, even as she lost feeling in her limbs._

"_I have come to a decision," she said after several moments of thought. "You have killed my friend, and must therefore be punished. Come with me," she commanded, grabbing Haru's arm to pull her to her feet._

"_Mama," she quietly sobbed, making Naoko start struggling anew, but it was no use. The ice was too thick for her to break free._

"_Not a word," the fairy reminded the mother with an icy smile, forcing Haru to stand close to the bear she had killed. "Shiro, my dear friend; find thy rest now." She placed her hands gently on the snow white fur, burying her fingers deep into it._

_Naoko stared in amazement as the body seemed to dissolve at her touch, changing into a pillar of pure light that escaped into heaven, almost like a lightning strike in a slow reverse motion._

_By the time the light was gone, only the bear's hide was left in the fairy's hands. She turned to the tiny brunette, who was frozen as still as a statue._

"_This is thy punishment, human child," the fairy said formally, wrapping the hide around the girl's neck until it flowed behind her like a cape._

_Haru gasped, shaking as if struck by a seizure as her dark brown hair began fading, losing its color as the bearskin adjusted itself to a shape and size that would be perfect for her, along with a hood made from the bear's head._

_Even her skin, which had been a healthy pink, changed as white as her hair until she was almost impossible to define from the snow._

_Once the girl had collapsed to the ground from exhaustion, the fairy informed her of her fate in a calm, almost indifferent tone._

"_For taking the life of my dearest friend, you will wear his hide and his mark for the rest of your days. You are hereby forbidden to ever take a mate, or to ever speak your own name. When you die, either by accident or design, the hide will merge with your body, and you will become a bear to serve me for all eternity in Shiro's place."_

_From her fallen state, Haru started crying anew, struggling to rise from the weight of the bearskin._

"_However," the fairy continued, giving the girl a small humorless smile as she continued to stare. "Because you cannot help what is in your blood, and you were protecting your mother, I will allow a small bit of hope. If you should find a place that welcomes you with open hearts and arms, without knowing you or expecting anything from you in return, the punishment will be lifted, and you will be free to do as you wish. Do you understand, little one?"_

"_Y-Yes, ma'am," Haru sobbed, finally managing to sit up, although she was covering her face with both hands._

"_Say 'yes, my lady'," the fairy corrected._

"_Yes, my lady," the girl whispered, still crying into her hands._

"_Haru…" Naoko whispered in horror._

_The fairy looked at her with annoyance. "For lying to me, __**human**__, both you and your mate are now forbidden from speaking her name, or in any way revealing it. If she wants anyone to ever call her by name again, she will have to earn it on her own." She pointed a finger at the woman, whose icy encasement dissolved into snowflakes._

_Naoko fell to the ground, shaking terribly from the cold._

"_Until we meet again, my new pet," the fairy bid Haru, brushing her hand over the girl's hair one more time before walking away, dissolving into mist until she was completely gone._

"_Mama!" her daughter sobbed, forcing herself to stand. Then, as her body adjusted to the bearskin, she found the strength to run to her mother's side._

_With horror, Naoko realized that now her daughter's sweet maple-colored eyes were now as black as the fairy's._

_Or, perhaps more accurately, like a polar bear's. Even the winter clothes she had been bundled up in were now of purest white._

"_Mama, are you okay?" Haru begged, helping her mother to sit up._

"_I-I-I can't f-f-feel," Naoko gasped. The cold from the ice had seeped deep into her body. She couldn't feel her limbs!_

"_I'll help you, Mama," Haru promised, quickly looking over her mother, her little brow knit in concentration. She bit her lip in worry, but then very carefully wrapped her arms around her mother's. "This is the only way, Mama. I'm sorry."_

_Then, to Naoko's complete surprise, Haru started dragging her back into the cave. That in itself wasn't completely impossible, especially with all that slick snow on the ground, but the pace was unheard of for a seven- year-old girl._

_Within seconds, Haru had managed to drag her back to the mouth of the cave. "I better not do that anymore. The rocks will hurt you."_

"_I-I doubt I would even feel it," Naoko stuttered, struggling to get to her feet._

_But even as her now pale daughter helped her through the cave's mouth, she couldn't stop staring at the fallen snow in guilt and misery._

_Even if she hadn't gotten Haru cursed, her husband was an expert trapper. The tracks they had left behind would have betrayed her anyway._

_ooOoo_

_Naoko never completely recovered from being encased in enchanted ice. It started as a small cold, and grew steadily worse._

_Hasho had been completely furious that Naoko had broken her promise and taken their daughter out of the cave, but that didn't stop him from caring for her the best he could. Experience had taught him many ways to help ease his wife's illness, but nothing he tried worked._

_About a month after the curse began, Naoko's life ended. With a heavy heart, Hasho and his daughter gathered enough fire wood for her funeral pyre and watched silently as the flames slowly consumed her flesh._

"_Papa?" she asked hesitantly, pulling on the edge of his coat._

"_Not now, Ha-ech!" he gasped, once he attempted to say her name. Once he got his breath back, he pried his child's hand off his coat. "__**Please**__. Not now."_

_She said nothing, but after a few seconds, he could hear her walk back into the cave, leaving him alone with the pyre. _

_Hasho looked behind him with a heavy heart, hardly recognizing his child anymore. He didn't think she had smiled once since the incident, and frankly, he didn't see why she would._

"_**Why**__, Naoko?" he sobbed, looking at the pyre again. "I was trying, wasn't I? I did everything I could. Why did you leave the cave?"_

_She had never completely answered him in that score. She had known how important it was for her and their daughter to stay hidden. In fact, Hasho never told anyone in the village he traded with that he had a family. He was careful to sometimes go to an even farther village to keep anyone from guessing that he was providing for a wife and child._

_Their life, although far from ideal, had at least been happy. They had each other, and a beautiful little girl._

_Who was now cursed and without a mother._

"_What are we supposed to do without you?" he sobbed. "She's too young to stay in the cave by herself, and no one could ever replace you."_

_Naoko didn't answer, but he was expecting that. He sighed and began pacing the snow between the pyre and the cave._

_He had loved Naoko for years, long before she noticed that he existed. He had literally __**lived **__for the rare occasions that he could see her, or to even know that there was a chance that she would look at him. When the day came that she needed his help, he thought he had died and gone to heaven, despite the terrible circumstances._

_Then when she fell in love with him… _

_He rubbed his mitten against his cold brown hair, watching the flames devour the last of his beloved wife._

_How was he supposed to care for his daughter when he couldn't so much as say her name? It hurt just to look at her anymore._

_Once the fire dissolved into soft ash, and the sun had gone down, Hasho forced himself to return to the cave that had served as their home since before they knew their daughter was coming._

_But before reaching the curtain, he could tell something was wrong. He stormed up to the thin, worn out cloth and pulled it to the side._

_His child had huddled herself into a small crevice in the wall, only visible from the small bit of white fur that billowed from her bearskin cloak. Even before he marched to the hiding spot, he could hear her weeping into her arms._

"_Ha-ech!" he started gasping, forgetting that he was forbidden to speak her name._

_Her only response was to huddle tighter into the crevice, still weeping, still refusing to look at him._

_Once Hasho got his breath back, he tried reaching into the crevice to pull her out, but was only able to brush his fingertips against her knees. "Honey, come out. Are you hungry?"_

_He couldn't remember the last time either of them had eaten. There was food in plenty from the game he trapped and the last trip to the village, but decidedly less in the way of appetites._

_She shook her head, her entire body shaking against the cold stone as she continued to cry._

"_Sweetheart, I know you miss your mother, but you need to come out here. I can't get to you when you're in there," he sighed, making a mental note to fill this crevice with rocks at the earliest opportunity so that she wouldn't be able to hide in there again._

"_I-It's my fault!" she wept, just enough for him to hear her. "Mama's dead b-b-because of __**me**__! I tried… I tried to get her back inside… didn't try enough. My fault… my fault…"_

_Hasho's heart felt like it was breaking again. Glancing down, he could see that her bearskin cloak wasn't outside his reach. Taking a big fistful of the soft white fur, he began pulling on it insistently. "Come here," he said in a firm tone._

_Although she clearly didn't want to, his hold on her cloak made her wiggle out of her hiding place until he could pull her into a rough embrace._

"_It isn't your fault, Sweetheart. Once your mother made up her mind about something, nothing could stop her. She was famous for that trait, back before we got married. I should have known that she'd try to go outside, but after all these years, I let my guard down. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I should have taken the two of you on short visits outside, but…"_

_He trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence._

_She looked up at him through her tears. "But… but what?" she asked through her sobs._

"… _It was too dangerous," he managed to say after a few minutes. He and Naoko had long agreed to never tell her precisely why they were living in a cave and never saw another soul._

"_Are there even more fairies out there?" she asked in horror._

"_Among other things," he sighed, picking her up in order to sit in the low chair next to the fur nest they had long slept in._

_However, his daughter hadn't been able to sleep in it since getting a personal bearskin cloak. All that fur with her parents' body heat was too hot for her to handle anymore._

_Spotting his wife's favorite comb, he adjusted his daughter a bit on his lap, grabbed the comb, and started running it gently through snow white hair._

_The little girl's cries began softening after a few minutes of the familiar action, making her cuddle against him lovingly once the tears were spent._

_He gently kissed her cheek and kept combing her soft, fine hair. Usually Naoko was the one to do this, but… they both needed this. It was good to feel the cool metal slowly warm against his skin, and she was clearly enjoying the familiar sensation of the comb's teeth._

_But that still left him with a big problem; what should he do with his child while he needed to be out hunting or trading with the village? Seven was much too young to start leaving her alone._

'_What to do… what to do…'_

_There was no help for it. He'd have to move to the village, and… what? Even if he passed off his daughter as an albino, he wouldn't be able to hide the way whatever clothes she put on changed as white as the rest of her. Someone was bound to try to make her wear something new, and they would see for themselves that she was cursed. Who knew what they would do to his precious little girl when he was going to be gone for hours at a time? Even if they were willing to keep an eye out for her, would they actually prevent any mischief that might happen?_

_Naoko's sewing bag was poking him in the rib, where she had usually slung it over the back of the chair. Hasho sighed, and elbowed it out of the way._

_It fell to the ground, making her prized scissors fall out of the bag._

_Scissors._

_The little girl noticed that the bag had fallen from its place, and hopped off her father's lap to take care of it. "Mama never liked having her bag on the floor."_

"_No. She didn't," Hasho whispered, stopping her from putting it on a shelf. He took the bag from her and slung it over the back of his chair again, but in a different position so it wouldn't dig into his rib again. "Sit on my lap, sweetheart."_

_She nodded, and crawled onto him again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek like she usually did._

_He kissed her cheek in return, and gave her a hug before returning to combing her soft white hair._

_His daughter sighed, finding great comfort in the simple task._

_But Hasho couldn't get his mind off of the plan that had sparked to life. It was a risky one, and so much could go wrong if someone found them out. If any harm came to his only child, he would never forgive himself._

_What choice did he have? Any other way would leave her defenseless. If it was her destiny to find a place with open hearts and arms… then it was his destiny to prepare her, the only way he knew how._

_He slipped his hand into his wife's bag and pulled out the scissors again. He made sure to keep combing her hair with the other hand so that she wouldn't suspect a thing._

_She started humming softly, and kicking the air with her little legs. Hasho's heart broke again. In order to make the plan work, she wouldn't be humming or singing for a long time._

_He slowly opened the scissors to evade a sound, giving his daughter's long white locks a final caress as he held all of it in a seemingly random gesture…_

_Before cutting all of it off with a swift movement._


	2. Appearance

**Chapter Two: Appearance**

_First appearance deceives many._

_-Ovid_

xxXxx

The little girl sometimes wondered if her father hated her, first for getting cursed, and then for being responsible for her mother's death. She had never realized how ideal her life had been until after her father initiated 'the plan'.

There was a long list of rules that she now had to obey, every moment of every day. No more laughing, no more smiling, and no more singing were just at the top of the list.

Her father kept insisting that he loved every bit of her, but…

Such things made her gender all too clear.

Of course, it wasn't all bad. She got to spend more time with her father as he began teaching her the tricks of his trade, which was trapping. But her all-time least favorite part about her new life were the trips into the village.

She had been unable to keep herself from staring at first. Never before had she seen so many people, who were completely happy to stare right back at her. Her father had coached her time and again not to reach out for his hand while in town, but nothing could have made her leave his side.

Not with the way everyone was staring at her, as if she were a ghost coming to claim one of their own.

Her father ignored the stares, marching straight through all the strange huts made from wood until reaching one of the bigger ones. "Remember, stay close," he whispered, making her nod and adjust her hold on her bag, which contained the two rabbit hides she had skinned and cured with her father's help.

She had been only seven at the time. It didn't take long for her to start catching more.

As they walked into the large hut, a man looked up from behind a large wooden counter, and gasped in horror. "Heavens above; what is _that_?" he demanded, pointing a finger at her.

She looked down at her perfectly white snow boots, _hating _what her father was about to say.

"I have been given charge of the fairy Ukima's new companion, until she deems him ready for his duties. The boy doesn't have a name," her father answered casually, thanks to several hours of practicing in the cave.

That was what hurt the most. Having her father all but disown her in public. She kept staring at her boots, wanting to go back to the cave.

"Doesn't she already _have _a companion?" the man asked as her father slammed his bag of hides over the counter.

"Not anymore. The boy is his replacement," her father said indifferently as he gave her a stern look. "Put the bag where he can see it, boy."

She nodded, although she was a bit more careful about putting her bag on the counter.

The man kept staring at her, as he curiously opened her bag to pull out the two rabbit skins. "Did he used to be a bear cub?"

"I don't know. It isn't wise to question Ukima," her father said tightly. "Now then, the past month's been really good for fox and rabbit hunting. I've got five fox skins, one of which is silver…"

From there, it turned to haggling over how much each skin was worth, as well as the small number of bone needles that he had carved from the bones of his kill. The tiny girl tried hard to pay attention, but all those numbers flying around made her eyelids droop tiredly. She looked around the large building, but the only things that seemed interesting were behind the counter, and she knew better than to ask for a closer look at anything.

She gave a speculative look at the door. Did she dare?

The round thing her father had grabbed onto to open it began moving on its own. She jumped back in surprise with a small gasp.

The door opened a crack. An eye peeked within, widening at seeing her. She tilted her head in confusion; whoever it was happened to be as tall as her. With hesitant steps, she came closer, making the door slam fearfully.

"Hey, are you playing with the door?" the man asked crossly.

"No, sir," she finally managed to say, remembering to keep her voice slightly gruff like a bear's.

"Get away from it, then," her father ordered.

She looked at him, and then at the door. Who had been staring at her? "Can I go outside instead?"

Her father's eyes tightened slightly. "… Don't go too far. Stay within sight of the door," he finally complied, turning back to return to haggling.

Eager to be out of the boring room, the petite child operated the knob the same way her father had, careful to close the door behind her.

This hut had a strange wooden floor in front of it, making her carefully walk off it and the steps leading back to the snow. She looked this way and that, trying to find the person that had looked at her before.

"Are you a fairy?" a young voice whispered from behind her.

She whirled around in surprise, seeing a whole _group _of children huddled against the side of the wood flooring, staring at her in horror.

The white-haired child gulped nervously. "I'm a fairy's companion. Or I will be, when I grow up."

"I thought humans couldn't be a fairy's companion," one girl piped up, holding a doll tight against the cold.

She looked down at her white gloved hands, fiddling nervously with the edge of her bearskin cloak. "I won't be a human forever."

The children kept staring at her, long enough to make the girl uncomfortable.

She looked down at the snow around her boots, and kicked at it self-consciously. "… I should go back now," she mumbled, turning away to head back inside the strange hut.

"Do you want to play?" one of the boys asked suddenly, making her look back in surprise.

"… Play?" she asked in confusion. She had only ever played with her mother and sometimes her father. But none of them had a book or a toy; how could they play?

"Sure. We can have a snowball fight," the boy said enthusiastically, marching out from the rest of the kids bravely to approach her. "Do you know what those are?"

She shook her head slowly as she stared at the boy. He was a bit taller and older than her, perhaps by a few years. She didn't quite know the right word for it, but it was very pleasant to look at his face, especially his smile.

"Well, first you get a bunch of snow like this, and pack it down tight," he showed her, making a perfectly round ball between his hands.

"What do you do with the ball?" she asked curiously, leaning forward to inspect the ball.

He smiled at her, and tossed it at another boy, hitting him on the chest as the ball exploded into snowflakes. "Come on guys, he's harmless."

The white clad girl had to bite down on her tongue to keep from asking who 'he' was. Like she had seen the boy do, she leaned down and started packing snow into a ball shape.

"I don't know, Machida," the boy he hit said fearfully, but Machida just laughed at him.

"He's just a boy like us, only one color. Go on, hit me," he urged her with a smile.

She uncertainly looked at the ball in her hand. Did she pack it tight enough?

"Come on, just hit me," he laughed, holding his arms out while stepping backward.

She took a deep icy breath, and threw it at him.

The children gasped in horror as Machida flew several feet backward to land on his back, screaming in pain as he clutched one shoulder.

She stared in shock, and tried to run to his side. But the other children intercepted her, making a barricade with their bodies.

"You hurt Machida, you meanie," the girl with the doll accused, just before kicking her in the leg as hard as she could.

"Ouch! I didn't mean to," she protested, just as a number of adults came running at the sound of the screams.

"My son! What happened?" a tall man demanded as he knelt next to the boy, although his glare was already directed at the girl in the bearskin cloak.

"_He_ threw this snowball at Machida," one boy reported, kicking the globe with one foot. Somehow, it was still in one piece.

"It was an accident, I didn't mean to-" she tried to protest just as someone tall grabbed a big fistful of her cloak to throw her to the side.

She landed on the ground, her face scraping harshly against the cold snow and ice. A few tears escaped her control as she sat up to look at the large group of adults, all of whom were glaring at her hatefully.

"I knew you were up to no good as soon as I saw you," the father snarled as he carefully picked up Machida.

"I wasn't trying to harm him," she tried to say without crying.

"So, you think its fun to pelt defenseless kids with snowballs, eh?" one of the older men sneered, gathering some snow of his own. "Let's see how you like _this_!"

"I didn't mean it-" she tried to protest, but then another parent hit her square in the jaw with a snowball that felt like a rock.

It was only the first of the snowballs that began raining down on her, from both the adults and the children, packed as hard as possible. Holding her arms over her head, she struggled to her feet, and started running. Within mere seconds, the snowballs stopped. Since the large group had seemed angrier than to give up so soon, she paused and looked behind her.

Her mouth dropped. They _had _made chase… but they had no chance of catching up to her. She was already several hundred feet away from them, and several of the group was staring at her with open mouths.

She gripped a side of the bearskin as she realized that she wasn't just marked in appearance. Her strength and speed were also affected. That's why the snowball had hurt Machida so much; she didn't know her own strength!

Realizing that some of the more determined adults were still running at her, she began running again, as hard as she could. She knew it was breaking her promise to Papa, but it was also turning into a battle of survival.

Where to run? The village wasn't very big, and it was too far to the cave to go by herself. She settled for running laps around all of the wooden huts, and praying that her father would be done soon.

But before she could run a single lap, someone hiding behind a nearby building grabbed her arm and pulled her close. She opened her mouth to scream, but a long-fingered hand covered her lips.

"Hush, child," a raspy old voice whispered into her ear. "I mean ye no harm."

She stiffened in surprise, and tried to look around to see the one holding her. But the old woman's other hand prevented her from looking, choosing instead to pick her up and slide behind another building, just as a mob of angry adults stormed by.

"The villagers won't understand ye, child. It would be best to stay close to ye' father until ye' old enough to defend yourself."

The pale girl stiffened in horror. She tried to pry the old woman's mitten off her mouth to deny her father's identity, but the grip was surprisingly strong, even for her.

"Hide here until they stop shouting. Then see if ye can find ye' father, and don't leave his side until ye' safely home." Then the woman seemed to hesitate, just before pressing a soft kiss onto the girl's cheek.

She gasped in surprise, just as her captor released her. She wheeled around to see who it was, but all she saw was the corner of a cloak as it disappeared around a corner. The girl quickly ran to look around the corner, but there was no sign of anyone.

"Weird," she commented as she sat down at the corner of the hut, and waited for the shouts to die down. She heard them walk by several times, but for some reason, no one thought to look where she was hiding.

The little girl looked down at her cloak, which was wrapped around her little body to fight back the chill. Was it because she looked like part of a snow bank? She would have to remember this, if they ever decided to chase her again. But how come that lady didn't want her to see her face?

After a while, they stopped yelling. Had they given up? She got to her feet to look around the corner carefully. A group of people were down a ways, huddled close together in conversation. She decided the other way would be better to start looking for her father, but was extremely careful about the way she moved from hiding place to hiding place.

They all looked the same to her. How was she going to know which one to hide out in? She turned another corner, and all thought of hiding left her senses.

"He didn't mean it, he's only a child!" her father yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling against the four men holding him down. "This is going too far!"

A familiar pounding flooded through her blood. It wasn't as strong as it had been when her mother was in danger, but it was enough.

Feeling her eyesight turn strange, she marched around the corner, bearing down on the men holding her father captive.

Another man had a large stick handy, in case she came back, but compared to the bear, he was hardly an opponent at all. She slipped around his clumsy blows and swept his legs out from underneath him. He landed on a corner of her cloak, but a good tug was enough to free her from his weight.

"**Let him go or I'll break your legs**," she snarled at the remaining four, picking up the fallen man's club and holding it ready.

Surprisingly, the men did as she ordered, backing away from her father as if he was a pillar of fire.

Papa immediately ran to her, kneeling in the snow to place his hands on her shoulders and his mouth to her ear. "Shh, shh, everything's okay, honey. Calm down, you don't need to hurt anyone. Shh, shh," he whispered, gently swaying her body from side to side to help her calm down.

After a moment of this, she sighed an almost moan as she dropped the club, and held her head between her hands. It felt like someone was taking the club to her head, it hurt so much. A few more tears escaped her control, but her father was quick enough to bury her face into the front of his fur coat so that no one would see.

He then picked her up, still holding her face to his chest as he glared at the returning mob. "All of you should be _ashamed _of yourselves. The boy didn't mean to harm the mayor's son; I could hear him apologizing from inside the trading post. I _was _going to offer retribution for the injury, but I can see that you have already taken it. Tasho, is everything packed up?"

The old man nodded shakily from the door he had been watching from.

"Good. I and my ward will be leaving _now_." Not even bothering to bow to anyone, he marched directly into the store again, took the large bags waiting for them, and somehow managed to convince his daughter to carry one. He couldn't carry both of the sacks and her at the same time.

She could have told him that she was strong enough to carry both, and possibly him as well, but she didn't feel like talking right now. The headache was too much, and the heartache even worse.

She kept her head down, looking at only the snow beneath her feet as she and her father marched out of the village at a reasonable pace.

"You keep that _freak _of yours under control, or we'll take care of him ourselves!" the angriest of the parents shouted after them, shaking a fist.

"That is a wonderful idea," her father called over one shoulder sarcastically. "Ukima will be **thrilled **about losing her new pet so soon; feel free to pick out one of your number to replace the boy, will you?"

She shuddered at his indifferent tone. She knew it was just an act, but it still hurt to see him speak so coldly of her possible death.

They marched side by side for about an hour until he called a halt.

"This is why I wouldn't let you use these branches for firewood, son. We don't want anyone to know where we live, so from now on, we'll use these to sweep away our tracks." He demonstrated for her, walking backwards while vigorously disrupting the soft snow until his footprints had disappeared.

His child merely nodded, taking the smaller branch to half-heartedly copy his movements. She was too depressed to even mention the woman who had helped her escape the mob.

Papa looked at her, and sighed sadly. "I'm sorry, son. I should have made you stay inside, where it was safe."

"… I wasn't trying to hurt him," she murmured, almost too soft to hear. "He was being nice to me."

"I bet he was. Machida's a nice boy, but his father… well, he's very well respected in the village. Even if he wasn't the mayor, they'd have still given chase."

"But… but…" she stammered as tears threatened to resurface.

"Son, no," he commanded, leaving off his task to make her look at him. "Boys don't cry, remember?"

"I'm not a boy," she whispered.

"Don't ever say that again," he ordered, making her look at him. "We've been over this; until you find the place that will cure you, you are a boy."

"But I don't _want _to be a boy!"

Her father covered her mouth in horror. "What if someone overheard you?" he hissed fearfully. "They would have treated you far worse if they knew you were a girl, wasn't it hard enough as a boy?"

"… yes," she muttered reluctantly.

"_Son_, this world is a cruel place. I've seen some of the things that happen to defenseless little girls, and… it's too terrible to talk about. Until you're cured, you're better off as a boy, okay?"

She looked away, still not liking his plan.

"Sweetheart… I don't want you to turn into a bear forever. Please, for me; be a boy," he begged.

"… Okay," she said in a tiny voice, forcing herself to say it.

He sighed with relief, and kissed her hair before standing up to sweep his marks away as before. "Let's hurry; it takes twice as long to get home this way, and who knows what sort of spirits come out at night?"

"More fairies?" she asked with a shudder.

Her father gave her a long, sad look. "My poor, sweet little boy. There is so much more to fear in this world than fairies."

ooOoo

"… A goat?" the pale girl asked, staring at the picture book with intent.

"Very good. Is their fur worth anything?" her father asked keenly, keeping his hands on the words so that she wouldn't get any hints.

"For anyone except the poorest of people, it's lousy. Their fur is actually more like fleece, so it's better to spin their hair into yarn, if you really need it. They're usually pets, so it's better not to hunt them at all."

"That's right," he told her with a proud smile, taking back the picture book to look for another animal to test her on.

It had only been about a month since her first trip into town, and she was not looking forward to going back there, even if she was worried to learn if Machida was healing all right or not. But her father was doing pretty well with distracting her with more training and learning about animals that weren't to be found in the Northern Lands from a book he had gotten for her two rabbit skins.

"What about this one?" he asked, showing her another picture while keeping his hands over the words.

She _still_ found it strange that she read better than her father, but before Mama died, she had been warned never to bring it up. Her father was a little touchy about his bad reading skills.

"Wolf," She reported, recognizing the fur on the animal from her parent's quilt, when he'd play this game with just names and fur. "Very dangerous, and they usually run in packs. Depending on the customer, quite valuable, but try to avoid hunting them or letting them hunt you. Not too many people survive a confrontation like that."

"How is their meat?" her father pressed.

"With the right spices, it's not so bad. It's better than sheep, but worse than ox."

Her father grinned, looking through the book again. "What about this one?"

"Otter. Water proof hide, difficult to catch unless you know the right tricks. Not bad in a stew, though slightly chewy."

He smiled again, and laid the book on his lap, not bothering to hide the words anymore. "I'd have to say that you know your animals pretty well, son. Let's see if I can find something more challenging." He started sifting through the pages carefully with a thoughtful expression.

Suddenly, she saw an animal she had never seen before. Her hand reached out to stop her father, and turn back to the page while turning the book around on his lap to face her.

The animal looked a bit like a snow leopard, but had pointed ears instead of rounded, and was sleeping under a tree with a bunch of smaller ones curled up beside it.

"Cats," she read from the book. "The dom-esti-cated cousins of tigers, lions, and leopards."

"Oh, them?" her father laughed, taking the book from her. "You don't have to worry about cats, son. Their hides are worthless, the meat is terrible, and they're very popular pets in the southern kingdoms. Well, either pets or nuisances, but definitely not worth the trouble of hunting."

"Are they nice?" she asked, unusually intrigued.

"Some are, depends on the cat." He gave her a fond, melancholy look. "I should have known you'd be interested in them. Your mother loved cats, too."

"She did?" the pale girl asked excitedly.

"Of course. Don't you remember all the times she called you her little kitten?" He tapped at the smaller cats in the picture. "Baby cats are known for being exceptional at cuddling, and are completely adorable."

She smiled brightly. It felt good for her mother to associate her to something cute and harmless.

"Don't do that," her father warned her worriedly. "Your smile's girly, remember?"

"I remember," she sighed, reluctantly wiping the smile off her face. She still wished he'd let her be herself when they were alone. But to make the plan work, she needed to be a boy all the time, so that she wouldn't slip up when people were around.

Unfortunately, that also meant she couldn't be happy anymore.

"I'd like to see a cat, someday," she said wistfully.

He smiled at her, and kissed her short white hair. "Don't worry, son. You'll see plenty of them, when the time is right." He then sighed. "Your mother always liked to say that there is nothing more soothing than a cat's purr."

"What's a purr?" his daughter asked in confusion.

Her father stared at her in shock. Then he placed one hand over his face. "Of _course _you wouldn't know that. Never mind, Ha-ech!" he started gasping again.

She waited patiently for him to catch his breath. "Papa? What's a purr?" she asked again.

He gave her a strange look, biting his lip awkwardly. "… You might call it a happy growl."

"What? How can a growl be happy?" she couldn't keep from asking.

"If you had ever heard a purr, you'd understand. Cats only purr when they're happy or being petted. It's a very content sound; you'll understand someday."

She looked down at her lap in misery. "If we were cats, we would have purred when Mama was alive, wouldn't we?"

Her father stared at her, his eyes slowly overflowing with tears. "Yes, sweetheart. We would have purred nonstop back then."

She sighed in longing. "It sounds beautiful."

ooOoo

The cursed child did _not _leave her father's side, the next time they had to visit the village. The stares were much colder this time, although there was also a strong trace of fear, now that they had an idea of what she was capable of.

In fact, the only time she dared to take more than a step away from her father's side was when they were in the trading post again, and the last customer had left in a hurry, so as to not be around her for longer than needed.

The tiny girl gripped the side of the counter with both hands in order to lift herself up enough to look at the terrified old man. "How is Machida?" she asked in a slightly gruff voice, the same she had used in the last trip to town.

"H-He's almost completely recovered," Tasho informed her fearfully. "He only complains of an ache every now and again."

She looked down at her feet as she lowered herself to the floor again. "I'm glad he's better."

"So am I, boy," her father said in a comforting tone before turning the conversation to haggling again.

His daughter had more to offer this time; three rabbit skins as well as a skunk hide. She was still a bit smelly from the fight she'd had with the skunk before gaining the hide, but it had mostly faded by now.

Even after being reassured, she did not step away from her father for anything. When the door creaked open behind them, the only way she acknowledged it was by pulling her hood over her head.

That made Tasho even more nervous, since the hood had been made with Shiro's head. But after a while, they managed to negotiate the supplies they would need for the month and split the burden between them before saying goodbye.

The small girl child refused to look in any direction other than forward, as they left the trading post and began the long walk back to the cave.

"Wait, you! Hey, you!" a familiar voice called out behind them.

She looked around in surprise. It was Machida.

Her father stood in front of her protectively as he ran up to them. "Do I really have to say it again?" he sighed in exasperation. "He didn't mean to throw that stupid snowball so hard."

"I know. Please sir, I just want to apologize," the boy panted, leaning over his legs to catch his breath.

She looked around her father in complete shock. "_Apologize_? I'm the one who hurt **you**!"

"I also know you didn't mean it. I'm sorry that you got chased around town because of me. I tried speaking to my father about you, but he wouldn't listen to me." Machida then made a face of disgust. "As usual."

She hesitantly walked from behind her father. "I'm very sorry about hurting you. I'll never do it again."

He grinned at her. "I know you won't. Pals?" he asked, holding out a hand to her.

She looked up at her father, but he only nodded encouragingly. "Pals," she agreed, being incredibly careful about the way she grabbed his hand.

It was _warm_.

"It's okay to grip harder than that," he informed her with a laugh.

"I don't want to hurt you again."

"You won't. Come on, just a little harder, not a lot," he coaxed.

She increased the pressure slightly. "Like that?"

"A little harder."

"What about that?"

"Just right," he assured her with a laugh, shaking her hand a bit.

The cursed girl almost laughed too, but then felt a pressure on her foot. A quick glance revealed it to be her father's boot, and a silent warning.

She quickly shut her mouth and took back her hand. "Thank you for being so nice, Machida. I hope your shoulder heals all the way."

"Don't worry about it. Hey, what's your name?" he asked suddenly. "It's been bugging me all month."

She flinched away in guilt. No name her father could come up with suited her as much as her real one.

"I'm afraid my ward doesn't have a name; it's forbidden," her father said gently, touching one of her shoulders. "Although I'm glad that you like him, the day is growing old, and it's risky to travel at night."

"Oh, right. Thanks for letting me talk to him, sir," Machida said while bowing to the two of them respectfully.

Papa did the same, making his small child swiftly follow suit before walking away. The little girl was in a bit of a daze, hardly noticing anything outside of the snow and keeping her grip on the sack.

"Disgusting," her father snarled angrily.

She broke free from her thoughts. "What's disgusting?"

"_Them_," he answered, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

She looked behind them, to see that the village was long behind them. "I don't understand, what was disgusting about the village?"

"The way they were staring at you. I bet that boy's been shouting his forgiveness from the rooftop since getting better, and they _still_ stare at you like a rabid animal."

"… Aren't I, though?" she asked after a moment of thought. "When I get really angry, I do terrible things."

"Oh, everyone does that; you're just a bit more intense about it. But, honestly! _They're_ the rabid animals, for chasing a child around like a wanted criminal!"

The girl looked down at her pure white snow boots again, not being able to think of anything to say to that.

When they reached the branches again, however, her father burst out laughing for no reason.

"Sir?" she asked worriedly, since he was trying to wean her off of calling him Papa. "What's wrong?"

"I-It's… just… how's that for _irony_?" her father said after several minutes. "The only one in town who had a right to hate you is the only one willing to give you a chance!"

She had to fight to keep from laughing or smiling, to avoid another scolding from him.

But nothing could keep her from looking at her gloved hand in wonder. It was still warm from Machida's touch. She thought about his warm smile, so easy, so _accepting_.

She had a reason not to dread the trips into town anymore.

"… I have a _friend_," she whispered happily.


	3. Fool

**Chapter Three: Fool**

_If I wear a mask, I can fool the world. But I cannot fool my heart._

_-Christina Aguilera, 'Reflection'_

xxXxx

"Feverfew; looks like daisies, great for pains and digestive problems. Lavender; fairly pretty flower, good for salves and cooking, if you can get it. Stinging nettles; name says everything, great for medicines and food, if you're careful. You can also get a coarse thread out of it, if you know what to do."

Her father grinned at her, closing the book. "That about does it, son. You know herbs better than I do."

The fifteen year old merely nodded with a somber expression, fighting back the urge to glow at the praise. She had gotten much better at it over the years, even if it made her feel a little lifeless.

Machida told her that the other villagers had taken to calling her Stone Face when she wasn't around, which her father saw as a good thing. Machida himself couldn't seem to settle on a single nickname for her, but she didn't mind. None of the names _he _came up with made her feel like trash.

"Speaking of which, sir, we're running low on some spices in the cabinet," she said in an offhand manner. "Plus we're about out of flour."

"Good boy; you've been keeping an eye on the storage," he approved, turning away so that he could rescue the bread from getting burned.

He failed again. But his child knew better than to complain, since her father's burnt bread was still a far cry better than her own.

However, her rabbit stew was nearly perfect.

"I'll tell you what, let's go into town in the morning," he promised her as she used a cup to pour the stew into two bowls. "You're growing so fast these days that I almost need to get you new clothes every other time we go there."

"It's not my idea," she protested, wincing as the cup spilled some of the stew's water over one pant leg.

It was hot, but she didn't really care about the burn. Instead, she silently watched the brownish color left by the stew slowly fade back into a perfect white.

The same thing happened every time color intruded on her person. The villagers had been shocked, the first time one of their number was brave enough to toss a bit of mud at her. The same thing happened every time she skinned her kill, since it was a messy business.

If not for the fairy's mark on her, the teenager was certain that all of her clothes would be stained with blood like her father's.

Only Machida seemed not to care.

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, thinking of her only friend. It had been eight years since her mother's death, and his welcome offer of friendship. He was _still _the only one in the village willing to look her straight in the eye and give an honest smile.

While her father's back was turned, the fifteen year old allowed herself a single, shy smile. Maybe she would be able to talk to him tomorrow. Maybe… just maybe tomorrow would be the day.

ooOoo

"… Come now; this fox skin is good for at _least _three bags of flour, or can't you tell quality when it's sitting in front of you?" the white-clad girl demanded, slamming her fist on the counter the way her father did.

"But look at the marks on its back right here," Tasho complained, pointing at the fox's perfect fur.

She looked at him, reached over the counter, and plucked the glasses right off his face.

"Now see here!" Tasho demanded in outrage as she nonchalantly used her bearskin cloak to clean them.

"Just a second, and _you _will see here," she replied in a gruff tone, setting them back over his eyes after a few more seconds of polishing. "Now try again; what marks?"

He scowled at her, and looked at the fox skin. Then he blinked, and took a closer look, removing and replacing his glasses with amazement. "Did you work some magic on these things?" he asked her crossly.

"I've already told you, I have no magic," she sighed tiredly. "Other than my strength and speed, I have no magical abilities."

"Other than removing stains from white clothing," her father reminded her from a small distance, his eyes glowing with pride at her haggling skills.

"Hasho, I'm begging you; don't make me deal with your ward anymore," Tasho pleaded, finally handing over the three bags of flour. "He goes for the jugular."

"Of course he does, that's why I've been letting him do it," Hasho smirked at him as he took one of the bags of flour to put in his sack.

The door opened behind him, making all three look over.

"Oh good, you're still in town," Machida panted, looking at the youngest of them. "Can I talk to you really fast?"

She looked at her father, trying desperately not to let her feelings show.

"… Go on, I'll take over here," he sighed, making a shooing motion with his hands.

"Thank you, sir," she replied gratefully, following Machida out the door.

"Quick, this way," he pleaded, gesturing for behind the trading post. "It's important."

'_He's figured out that I'm a girl?'_ she thought hopefully as she followed him as silently as possible.

Once behind the store, Machida wheeled around to grab her by the shoulders. "I need your help," he said desperately.

"Come now, you know I'll help," she soothed him, fighting back the usual urge to laugh at him.

_He _was the ultimate test for her disguise, and there had been so many times when she thought it had slipped enough for him to connect the dots. He was reasonably clever, so she was certain that it was only a matter of time.

It didn't help that she _wanted _him to figure it out.

"My pale friend… I'm in love," he moaned, pacing the snow in soft crunches that might cover up their conversation to any other ears.

"Y-You are?" she asked in surprise. She wasn't expecting the conversation to start with such a declaration.

"Yes. But… she's just so… and, well…" Machida stammered like a little boy, scratching his hat from nerves as a blush colored his cheeks.

"How descriptive," the cursed teenager replied dryly. She was grateful that sarcasm wasn't on the list of things she was forbidden from. Machida had a great laugh.

He gave her a crooked grin, but sighed. "Can you think of anything that would impress a girl?"

She cocked her head at him in amusement. "You're the mayor's son; you're well-respected, and not so hard on the eyes. Isn't that enough?"

"No. Anybody could know that about me. I want to _show_ her that I care, but…" he looked away uncomfortably while touching his shoulder.

It was still a bit weak.

"I can't impress her with my strength."

She flinched guiltily, but nibbled her lip in thought. "Hey, I thought of something!"

"You did?" Machida asked excitedly as she sat down.

"I did. Sit, this might take a while to show you."

He did as told, although his eyes turned slightly confused as she grabbed a small amount of snow.

"My guardian tells me that in the southern kingdoms, a man gives a lady a bouquet of flowers to show his interest in her."

"Yes, I know that. But no flowers grow around here, just snow."

"Then _use _snow," she said patiently, crushing it between her hands almost like a piece of dough.

"A bouquet of snow? Did you get into another fight with Jirashi and bump your head?" Machida asked suspiciously.

"If I did, he'd be limping, remember? Now watch what I do: if you harden bits of snow into shapes other than balls…" She stopped talking long enough to breathe hard on one of the bits of snow before pressing it against another one to make them stick together like they had been glued when the moisture refroze. "… You can make her some flowers of your own."

"Will that _work_?" Machida asked, completely fascinated by her hands, and the emerging flower between them.

"Any girl appreciates effort, Machida. Even _I_ know that," she added to cover her tracks.

The resulting flower was a little lopsided, but it was undeniably a flower, with five uneven petals sticking out of it.

"There! Do you think you have the idea, now?" she asked, suppressing a smile of triumph.

"… Can I just give her that?" he asked in a stunned tone, holding out his hand for it.

She held it away from him and shook her head. "No way, _you're _the one who likes her, not me. Practice as long as you need to, but if you're going to give her a snow flower, it needs to come from _your _hands. Even if she never finds out, you'll know the truth, and isn't she worth the effort?"

Machida nodded slowly, a wide smile overcoming his handsome features. "I _knew _it. I _knew _you'd have a solution!"

"Why did you know?" she asked, praying that she already knew the answer.

"Well, I overheard my mother tell a friend of hers once that when someone is in love and needs advice, they should go to someone who isn't in love."

If a villager had shot an arrow into her heart at that precise moment, the cursed girl wouldn't have noticed. She dropped the flower onto the snow from the sudden pain as Machida stood up.

"_Thank you_, white one. I can't wait to see Sakura's face when I get it right!"

"S-Sakura?" she choked in horror.

"You know, the baker's daughter with the long black hair? I've actually liked her for a while, but now that Jirashi and Mitskume are after her, I need something extra special to impress her." He grasped her shoulder with a warm smile. "You are a true friend, Bear-san. I'd be lost without you."

With another cheeky grin, he was gone, almost skipping in his glee.

On the other hand, the remaining teenager was frozen as still as a statue. Her face was, for a few vulnerable moments, torn free from its mask. Her body began to sway from side to side, until she finally noticed that she was lying down on the ground.

'_He… he never noticed. All those times he should have seen… and he was watching someone else. Why? **Why**?'_

She stared up at the sky, which was clouded over with oceans of grey. Hardly any light penetrated such a barrier; just enough for anyone to tell that it wasn't night.

Were Machida's eyes similarly clouded over, whenever he looked at her? If anyone could have told the truth about her, it would have been him.

"… Boy? Boy?" her father called out worriedly.

She didn't want to face him. Not so soon. But, knowing that he would only get angry with her for hiding, she took in a deep breath, shoved her face into a snow bank to help herself calm down, and then got up. "I'm over here," she called, her voice hoarser than usual.

"Are you done talking to Machida?" he asked, coming around the building with difficulty, since he was carrying both of the sacks.

"Completely," she informed him, still hoarse as she stared at the flower she had made for Machida.

Two of the petals had fallen off when she dropped it, giving the trinket a broken look.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, coming over to see for himself.

"N-Nothing," she replied harshly, making sure to stomp on the flower, grinding it with her heel as she approached her father. "I'll carry both sacks."

"What, don't be ridiculous-"

"I insist," the girl said in a firm tone, one that she never took with her father.

It stunned him long enough for her to remove both sacks from his grasp and start marching home. She didn't even look back to see if he was following her.

With each step she took, it felt like someone was stomping on her heart, making her bite her lip angrily and increase the pace.

"Now stop that, I can't keep up," her father complained as he swept the branches over the trail wildly to cover their tracks, trying to keep up with her.

"Sorry," she apologized as she slowed down, although she didn't mean it. _Anything _to keep Machida off her mind would be welcome at this point.

"Son? Is this about Machida?" her father asked worriedly.

"Is what about Machida?" she asked in a flippant way.

"… It is, isn't it? You've never taken both sacks before."

"I should think you deserve a break every now and again, especially with how you've been caring for me over the years."

He grabbed her wrist harshly, forcing her to look up at him as he pushed the sacks to the ground. "What was it he wanted to talk about?" he asked in a slow, firm tone. "I haven't seen you this upset in years."

She looked down in shame.

"What is it? Tell me!"

"… He wanted advice," his daughter mumbled. "Girl advice."

Her father stiffened in horror. "Does he know?"

"Not a clue," she replied to a stiff, forced smile as she picked up the heavy sacks again to walk along the unseen path. "We have absolutely **nothing** to fear from him."

"Then why are you acting this way?" he demanded, storming after her. "Are you in love with him?"

The cursed teenager froze in her tracks, unable to move a muscle.

"…Oh _no_! Oh, honey, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't call me honey," she snarled, resuming her lonely march. "That is an endearment for _girls_, remember? I'm just your cursed ward." Not wanting to talk anymore, she started running, as fast as she could.

Snow dunes and rock formations seemed to fly past her, even as her father called out for her to stop.

But she didn't want to stop. Not this time.

She only slowed down at the mouth of the cave, and that was merely because her eyes needed to adjust to the dim light of the cave.

Sighing, she walked along that lonely hallway, and eased the familiar curtain around herself and into the cave that was her home.

Numbly, she set the sacks down, started a fire in the pit so that she could see, and started putting everything where it belonged.

Jars of herbs in the spice cabinet. Flour and cheese in the cupboard. The two spools of thread went into her mother's sewing bag, as well as the folded up material for patching clothes. Her two new shirts and pair of pants went into the box she kept her clothes in. The two jugs of ale, used solely for curing animal hides, were slipped under the table they kept their traps on for repair work.

As the girl stood up, she studied each and every trap that needed work. The fox one had a broken spring, and a supporting knob had come loose on another one. Usually minimal things, since her father had taught her to make top-quality traps.

Her fingers itched to start working on them, but with how far behind she had left her father… he would appreciate a warm meal by the time he got home. With a heavy heart, she slipped into the smaller side cave where they kept the game they didn't trade, and chose a long strip of otter meat. With the fish they had caught the day before yesterday, she should be able to make an especially savory stew.

That was all she could cook right, actually; stews and soups, sometimes tea, if she was lucky. Anything else usually ended in disaster involving a bucket of water as part of the solution. She checked to make sure the bucket was full, just in case.

Even if Machida had truly known and accepted her, he liked bread too much to have considered her as a mate. If it was possible for her to take a mate.

'_Why did I let myself fall for him? I already knew I can't get married,' _she thought miserably, fighting back the urge to cry into slowly changing broth, taking a break every now and again to add more wood to the fire.

They were running low on that, too. She'd have to chop some more in the morning.

A sharp rattling sound was heard. She looked around in worry, but then stared at her hand, which was holding the ladle. It was shaking terribly, though not as bad as when she had gotten cursed.

"It's just not fair," she whispered to no one. "I just wanted to save Mama, was that so bad?"

Wasn't losing her name and coloring enough of a punishment, on top of enslaving her soul and losing her mother? Why did she have to be denied the comfort of a mate as well?

She wrapped her shaking arms around herself for a hug, pretending for just a moment that it was Machida holding her like a treasure.

Like a _woman_. She'd never been held like a woman; only a child. What was it like, to be held like a woman?

Her hand wandered up to her neck. Where most cloaks would have a clasp, she only had another strip of fur covering her collar bones, as if the fairy's touch had sewn the cloak seamlessly around her neck.

Her father had worried at first that it would stay the same size it had when she first got it, but for a reason that only magic could explain, it had grown with her. It always remained an inch shorter than her height, and wide enough to wrap herself up in like a blanket. Even the hood made a comfortable pillow for her.

Both of her hands went to her throat, and began tearing at the soft white fur. But even with her impressive strength, she couldn't loosen its' hold by a single hair's width. She took one of her daggers to start sawing at it savagely, but the blade only rusted at such use until it dissolved into red dust.

That's when the tears began to fall like rain.

ooOoo

Hasho stepped through the curtain a few hours later, panting from the exertion of sweeping their tracks out of the snow. A hot, salty smell assaulted his nostrils, making his mouth water shamelessly.

His daughter was sitting at his desk, her movements slow and deliberate as she finished repairing a trap. She set it to one side with three other traps, and disinterestedly grabbed another one to start inspecting it.

"Welcome home," she mumbled, although she didn't turn to look at him. "The stew's been done for a few minutes; go ahead and help yourself."

"Did you already eat?" he asked sternly, hanging up his heavy winter cloak.

"Not hungry."

When his daughter sounded that defeated, Hasho lost his appetite as well. He walked around the fire pit keeping supper warm in order to wrap his arms around his child.

"Please don't do that. It _hurts_," she whispered, keeping all of her attention on the trap in front of her, one with sharp metal teeth.

Hasho leaned forward, gently took the trap, and pushed it away from her. "I think you and I are overdue for a talk, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," she replied angrily, shrugging him off as she got off his chair. "That's an endearment for _girls_."

"Ha-ech!" he gasped, trying to say her name again.

"Don't do that, either. It's forbidden, remember?"

"Ha-ech!" he tried again, as soon as the first round of gasping subsided.

"I said stop that!" she commanded, pulling on one of his sleeves. "I don't have a name anymore, you know that!"

"Y-Yes, you do!" he finally managed to say, tears spilling down his face from her pain.

"But who knows what will happen if one of us tries to say it for too long? Don't you _dare _chance it," she hissed at him, keeping one hand at his mouth, just in case.

Hasho took in a long, shaky breath, and grabbed her wrist. "You and I are still overdue for a talk. Let's sit."

His only child looked less than thrilled, but she nonetheless went to her mother's chair as her father picked up his desk one to set it next to his wife's.

"_Please _say this isn't about Machida," his daughter begged, staring at the flames with intent. "I've already cried my heart out over him, and I don't want to do it again in front of an audience."

"It isn't… exactly," he admitted, ruffling his hair from nerves. "It's about removing your curse."

"If it's even possible," she continued numbly.

"It's possible," he asserted forcefully, making her look at him. "If it weren't, Ukima would have chosen another cure."

"How do you know? What if she made it hopeless in the first place?" she demanded angrily.

"Impossible. It's against their code of conduct."

She quirked her head at him. "Code of conduct?"

He cursed himself for letting it slip. But she needed to know things weren't hopeless.

"When a fairy curses someone, not only do they have to include a cure, it has to be something doable. It might be incredibly hard, and maybe the one getting cursed isn't able to do it, but it can be done. There really is a place somewhere with open hearts and arms, waiting for you."

His daughter stared at him, still looking sad. "So when do we leave?"

"We?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, aren't you coming too?"

"Sweetheart… I can't. I thought you knew."

She looked at him with horror. "Knew what?"

"Honey… when there's a cursed quest like this, it must be started alone. That is how things are done."

"Says who?" she demanded, standing up from her chair angrily.

"Says… well…" he sighed tiredly. "It comes down to a single question; do you want your name back?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Then you need to earn it back. I have been preparing you for a life of hardship since the day I first cut your hair. If I come along, yes, it will be easier, and we wouldn't have to say goodbye. But if I do come with you, I'll make all the decisions like I do here. This is _your _curse, _your _quest. You need to be the one making the decisions, not me, and didn't Ukima say you needed to do it on your own?"

She stared at him, realizing that he was right. "But, you let me do the haggling."

"So that we both know that you'll be able to do it on your own." He sighed, and also stood up to hug her lingeringly. "I love you, no matter what. But I would like nothing better than to be able to call you by name again without having another breathing problem."

"… Will you remember it by then?" she whispered, clinging to him like a child.

"Always, and don't _you _ever forget it." He kissed her snow colored hair, and held her close. "But you're not quite ready yet. There are still a few things you need to learn."

"Like what?"

"I won't be able to repair your clothes anymore," he informed her with a sly grin. "Plus you have no idea how tough some of the southerners are. When no fighter in the village can stand up to you without you turning berserk, and you're able to sew a straight seam, you will be ready."

She gave a mournful look at her mother's sewing bag. "The second one's going to take a little longer."

ooOoo

The cursed teenager took a blow to the jaw, turning away from her opponent as she did so. But she turned the move onto the offensive as she kept turning, enough to deliver a powerful kick to his head.

Jirashi fell to the ground as if his legs had been cut off; quickly and without any resistance. She knelt next to him, checked his breathing, and smirked at the mayor. "He's still breathing fine, but he'll have a killer headache when he wakes up."

The mayor scowled at her, waving forward some men standing ready with stretchers. "That's it for today, Stone Face. Come back tomorrow, and I'll have a few more ready."

"You're _too _kind," she murmured, bowing her way out of his presence.

It had been ridiculously easy to get the mayor's help with her father's new challenge. All she had to do was tell him that she wanted fighting experience, and there would be no vengeance from her if she got beaten to a pulp.

The villagers had even made a makeshift arena for her, just for the chance to see her grinded into dog meat, but as far as she could tell, they were a bit disappointed that she hardly ever walked away with anything more than bumps and bruises.

It wasn't enough for her. She wanted to be able to walk away without a _scratch _on her. Maybe if she started taking on several at once-

"Bear-san!" Machida called, making her heart beat uncertainly as he caught up to her. "Don't you think you've made your point yet?"

She looked at him curiously, slowing down enough for him to walk with her out of the village. "What do you mean? What point?" she asked while scooping up a fistful of snow to press against her aching jaw.

"That you're through with putting up with being treated like trash," he sighed in exasperation, covering his face with a blue mitten. "I'm pretty sure they understand now."

"They don't, and no, that's not why I'm doing this," she corrected him, remembering to keep her face calm and indifferent.

There was no point in dropping hints if he wasn't taking them.

"… Then _why_? You don't like fighting. You've never liked fighting; you're too gentle."

She fought back the urge to smile at him. "My dear friend, you know me so well." _'So why does he know so little?' _"But I have to be the best fighter around, and soon."

"But _why_?" he begged, grabbing her by one shoulder so that she couldn't escape.

She sent another grateful prayer to heaven that the bearskin was dulling his touch, and her curse of complete whiteness didn't allow for things like blushing.

Even _Machida_ would have figured it out by now if he saw her blush every time she looked at him.

"What's the point?" he asked again, forcing her to stop walking before the village was out of sight.

She looked at him as her heart felt like it was breaking anew. She considered flat out telling him the truth, but would he be able to handle it?

Would he hate her, if he knew?

"Bear-san, just tell me. What's going on?" Machida asked, soft and slow as he looked into her eyes.

"… You won't like it," she answered honestly, looking down at her perfectly white snow boots as the snowball began melting against her jaw.

"I don't care. Are you in trouble?"

The cursed teenager laughed harshly, the only kind of laugh she had that didn't sound feminine. "It depends on the way you look at it. Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course," he assured her, slamming one fist over his heart. "Whatever you tell me will never cross my lips again. What's going on?"

She took a deep breath… and chickened out of telling him everything. She wouldn't be able to handle it if he looked at her with hate or disgust.

"… I don't have to be a fairy's companion."

His jaw dropped.

"If I want to have my own life, I'll have to find a special place that will release me from Ukima's power."

"Bear-san, that's _suicide_!" he gasped in horror. "What if she finds out?"

"She already knows. She's the one who told me to do it if I don't want to spend eternity as a polar bear."

"… Why didn't you mention this before?" he asked accusingly.

"The villagers hate me," she explained patiently. "If they knew all they had to do to be rid of me was kill me so I'd change into a polar bear, they'd have done it by now. But I want my life back. I want my _name _back."

"You have a _name_?" Machida gasped in shock.

"Of course I do. I'm just not allowed to speak it until I'm freed from this stupid cloak!" She started pulling on the neck of it insistently, but again, it did not loosen its hold on her.

After giving up on the cloak, she looked at her only friend; surprised at the expression on his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked in gruff suspicion.

"… All this time… I thought you were born a bear cub," Machida whispered shamefully, looking away from her. "I never thought to ask if you were always a human."

Her heart hurt even worse, as she realized that he hadn't ever seen her as so much as a true human. _'I hate my life.'_ "Why on earth would she have changed me into a human?" the pale girl asked in exasperation. "When we met, it was blatantly obvious that Ukima _hates _humans. If I were once a cub, she'd have taken me as her companion right then, end of story."

"So… why didn't she?" Machida asked curiously. "Even if you become the best fighter that ever lived, strength is useless against magic, and you were just a child, weren't you?"

"… I was. It was pretty much the only reason she left me with a way out of becoming her companion. It will still be several months until I'm ready to strike out on my own, but the stronger I am, the more likely I'll survive long enough to find the place that can cure me."

"What's it called?"

"I don't know yet. But it exists somewhere and I'm going to find it. Somehow," she added, letting just a shade of her agony slip over her pale features before controlling it again.

"… You'll find it. You're the most stubborn man I've ever met."

Another flood of pain rippled through her body, but she forced a stiff smile onto her lips.

One that she had practiced for hours with her mother's hand mirror until it didn't have a trace of femininity to it.

"Thank you, Machida. I wouldn't have been able to survive all these years without you."

He smiled warmly, but then looked nervous. "Bear-san?"

She nodded, giving him her full attention.

"The… the place that can cure you will probably be very far away, won't it?"

"More than likely."

"Do you think you'll ever come back? I would like to know your name very much, and I'll worry about you after you leave."

The pale teenager had no way of knowing this, but she was certain that if she ever found a place that would completely accept her, Machida would probably be married and possibly a father by then. Would she really be able to see him like that?

"… If nothing else, I'll send a letter," she promised, even though her father warned her that the postal service was chancy at best, especially up here.

He winced painfully. "I guess I'll have to do better in reading, then. I don't want someone else to be reading our mail."

"You can't read?" she asked with surprise.

That was one thing that neither of them really talked about, at least to each other. But as the mayor's son, she had been all but certain that he was at least passable with letters.

"I _hate_ reading, it gives me a headache. But I'll try harder for you," he promised, clasping her shoulder warmly. "You'll remember to say goodbye before you leave, won't you?"

"I-It probably won't be for several months. I still have some more training to do," she answered, struggling not to stutter like a moron.

"Then maybe you'll be able to stay long enough for the wedding!" he answered brightly. "I mean, Sakura and I aren't engaged yet, but I'd like you to be there when we exchange vows."

'_Why can't he hear my heart breaking?' _"… Even if I stay that long, I wouldn't be allowed to attend. You know how Yakimi gets about the sanctity of holy ceremonies. He'd sooner let me eat him than permit me to witness a wedding."

Machida scowled angrily, shaking his head. "I don't care. You're still my friend, and a better one than any I've found in the village. I want you there."

"Your father will never allow it, and neither will anyone else," she reminded him, wishing that her heart would stop howling in pain. "Plus I bet Sakura wouldn't want me there, and I don't want you two to get into a fight over me."

Machida wouldn't stop staring at her as a melancholy smile slid over his handsome features. "My pale friend... you are without a doubt the most considerate man I'll ever meet."

She flinched slightly. Was that trait revealing her true gender? No, calling her a man had ensured that her mask hadn't slipped.

In a rare display of affection, he gave her a brief hug and a friendly punch on the shoulder before walking back to the village. "I wish everyone was as considerate as you."

The cursed girl watched him walk away, feeling like she was going to start crying again. "_Why_?" she whispered, turning around to continue the lonely walk home, tossing her snowball angrily at a random rock to make it explode on impact. "Why does he have to treat me like that?"

It just made her love him even more, and she already loved him plenty.

'_If I had been allowed to be Haru, would I have had a chance?' _She had a feeling that the question would haunt her for the rest of her days, whether she got cured or not. Who could possibly want to be with her, if it wasn't the only person who had given her a chance?

She grabbed the branch she had set aside on the way to the village, and began the usual chore of sweeping her tracks clean from the snow.

"_Machida_," she sighed in her true voice, as tears began to fall. "I could lie to the entire world, if lying to you was no problem."

If only there was a way to lie to her heart.


	4. A Spotless Future

A/N; I wanted to add this to the last update, but forgot until too late. InYuJi didn't do another fanart for me, but she did a super cute piece of both Baron and Puss in Boots that I just have to let people know about. Hint; the kitty face is involved.

inyuji. deviantart. com gallery/ #/ d5m8xng

Copy + Paste x Delete Spaces = Happiness!

ooOoo

**Chapter Four: A Spotless Future**

_Whatever your past has been, you have a spotless future._

_-Anonymous_

xxXxx

'_If I had been allowed to be Haru, would it have taken so long for me to learn how to sew correctly?'_

Wondering if her face had indeed turned to stone, the pale girl dressed in the privacy of her little cave for the last time. She tightened the bandages over her chest, and then tied on two undershirts since the bearskin cloak didn't allow the kind of shirts one could slip over their head. She pulled on the slightly stiffer over shirt and tied that closed as well in a diagonal over her chest.

Two pairs of pants to combat the cold as well as thick woolen socks before her snow boots. She tucked her usual gloves into her plain white belt to keep them out of the way as she neatly rolled the rest of her clothing into tiny bundles before slipping them into a plain white bag.

She didn't have many clothes that still fit her, so the chore didn't take long at all. But since she didn't want to leave just yet, the cursed young woman sat on the stone slab that had served her for a bed for the past five years, and looked around her personal little cave.

It was a little farther down the hallway than her father would have liked, but even if she was pretending to be a boy, the pale one needed her own space as she grew older. Now that her clothes were packed away, only a small rug and the curtain across the entrance told that anyone had lived in here.

She felt a pang in her heart, feeling already as if this place was no longer home for her. "I want my name back," she whispered, reminding herself why she was abandoning everything she had ever known for the wilderness of the southern kingdoms.

Her stomach heaved uncertainly, making her glad that she hadn't eaten yet. The pale young woman sighed and made herself stand up from the slab. With difficulty, her feet left her little cave and trudged down the familiar stone path to the main cave.

Her father was awake by the time she slipped past the worn curtain, making porridge for breakfast. He looked up at her approach and managed a weak smile. "There's a bit of honey we could eat with this."

"Sounds delicious," she grunted softly, moving on silent feet to circle the cave. Her favorite traps were slipped into the bag, as well as a few daggers, an axe, and her trusty sling shot.

The last item was perfect for catching a rabbit or small animal for a quick evening meal. She never considered leaving the cave without it. Taking another bag, she helped herself to some of the meat in the small cave, as well as two water skins and the extra bottles of herbs she had gotten on her last trip to town.

Tasho knew what she was planning, she was certain of it. When she kept requesting things like a small cooking pot for travel, a tarp just big enough to use as a tent, and even a compass instead of the usual clothes and food, the old shop keeper was grinning from ear to ear.

The cursed young woman doubted that he would be able to keep from spreading the news to the other villagers. Even if most of them had been indifferent to her, she knew that her regular sparring partners would be glad to see the last of her.

"… Must you leave today?" her father asked wistfully. "After all, you turn seventeen in two weeks. You don't want to be alone for your birthday, do you?"

"I want my name back, sir. I want my future back." _'I want to call you Papa without getting scolded for it. I want you to proudly call me your daughter.'_

Her father gave her a mournful look, but motioned for her to stop packing to come eat on the simple mats close to the fire pit. For the last time, Haru chewed through his slightly lumpy porridge and burnt bread, trying to avoid looking at him.

She didn't want to leave her father. If he got into an accident in the caves or out hunting, no one would come to his rescue if she was gone. The sooner she left, the sooner the temptation to stay would leave her. She numbly finished her meal and stood up in order to do the dishes as usual.

"Stop, Ha-ech!" he gasped, almost falling to the floor to stop her.

"Why do you keep doing that?" she sighed, helping him back to a sitting position. "You know it's forbidden."

"B-Because, I want to say it again," he panted, once he got his breath back. "I'll keep trying, every day you're gone."

"Don't waste your breath. It would make more sense to try once every few months."

"Every day," he repeated stubbornly. "I want to know as soon as possible when you're freed."

"What about every few weeks?" she tried to coax, but he shook his head.

"You're still my child. I deserve to know if you're all right."

She looked away, towards the flames as she set aside the morning dishes. "I wonder if you'll be able to say it if I die instead."

"Don't even _think _that! If you invite doubt, you invite disaster!"

"I know. You've told me," she sighed, accepting the fierce hug from him with closed eyes.

That was another thing she hated about being cursed. She had to be careful about the way she hugged her father, if she wanted him to stay in one piece.

"… Before you leave, you need a few more things," he managed to say, after several minutes of hugging.

"I'm pretty sure that this makes everything I need, sir."

He winced from the name, but made her sit down as he got up. "There are a few more things I'd like you to take. They won't take much room."

She nodded curiously, watching him move around the cave until fishing something out from a crevice in the wall. If she remembered correctly, it was the same one she had crawled into, after her father had told her to leave him when her mother was burning.

Or, at least that was what she thought he said. She had been too wild with grief to be coherent at the time.

"When… when your mother and I eloped, she wasn't able to take a lot with her," Hasho said carefully, sitting down next to her with her mother's sewing bag in one hand. "You knew how she didn't like you to look in here, didn't you?"

"She got pretty angry the one time I tried to sneak a peak," she admitted as she studied her mother's bag.

It was a bit more threadbare than she remembered. Maybe her reluctance in sewing stemmed from memories of her mother by the fire pit, humming softly as a needle danced in her hands.

Her heart throbbed painfully at the memory.

"… I need you to understand that no one needs to see what's in here," her father nearly stammered as he handed her a plain, empty sack. "They are your inheritance, but they're very valuable. Thieves would _love _to take them off your hands."

"I understand," the cursed young woman promised, setting the sack across her lap.

It didn't turn white, since that only happened to items she wore.

"The first is something you've seen before; your mother's scissors," her father began hesitantly, pulling out the familiar trinket. "They're silver, and engraved rather prettily. It would be best if you only used them for hair trimmings and such, when you're alone."

"A knife works just as well," she reminded him as she took the scissors to look at them carefully.

The girl didn't remember this, but now that she was looking at them, there were clever markings that made the scissors look like a bird of some sort. She ran her fingers over the feather marks once before slipping the trinket into the small sack.

"The next is a silver thimble to match the scissors, but I doubt you'll use it much," he admitted, using a finger to offer the next item.

She plucked it off the digit to study it as well. She could barely remember her mother using it, but from all the hard work her hands had gone through, she wouldn't need this either. She put it into the sack without a comment.

"Then there's the comb. Again, only use when you're absolutely sure you're alone," he admonished her while handing it over. He opened his mouth to say more, but then decided not to.

His daughter carefully turned the treasured heirloom over and around in her hands. How many times had she watched her mother use this on her long autumn-colored hair, and feel its teeth run through her own hair?

A wooden one her father had made her was what she used since her father decided to train her as a boy. That would be the one she would still use; her mother's comb would only be for remembering by. She slipped that into the bag as well.

"There's also the small fold-up mirror you've used for practicing facial expressions, a ruby necklace that belonged to your grandmother, as well as a matching bracelet."

"… Just what _was _Mama before she married you?" she demanded as she inspected the beautifully intricate necklace, which had several small red stones held together by tiny golden chains. "Not even Machida's family has such things."

He looked at her gravely. "She was the daughter of a prosperous merchant in one of the southern kingdoms. Her father wanted her to marry someone she didn't care for. I helped her escape, and after some months on the run, we fell in love and got married. Her father had many connections with the law, so we never stopped fearing that we would be discovered one day."

She stared at him in shock. "That's why Mama and I never left the cave?"

"Among other things. You are now well aware of what sort of things live up here."

She nodded and slipped the jewelry into the small sack. "Is that everything?"

"Save for your mother's bag. Would you mind terribly if I kept it?" he asked worriedly, holding it against his chest. One of the worn and faded straps fell against his cheek as he did so.

"No, go ahead and keep it," she encouraged him as she sifted around the bag holding her clothes. "The things I didn't need are still in the other cave."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm… sorry that…"

"It needed to be this way?" she finished sadly.

"Yes. Can you forgive me?"

She wheeled around incredulously. "For _what_?"

"For not being able to protect you. For making you be a boy. I know you never wanted to be one."

She gave him a sad, loving smile. "It was the only way. If the southerners are anything like the villagers, they would _never_ take a female trapper seriously. A cursed one, maybe, but not a female one."

"They'd sooner die," he agreed solemnly as he stood up again. "Let me walk you to the cave's mouth?"

She nodded wordlessly and pulled on her gloves before shouldering both of the heavy sacks.

The silence between them was unsteady, as they walked down the hallway for the last time together. She used the time to think of the right words to use, to convey everything she was feeling, but nothing she thought of would be enough to conceal her true gender.

Just before reaching the mouth, she decided to indulge herself, just this once. She dropped the large bags, threw her arms around his neck, and hugged him as tight as she dared.

"I love you, Papa," she whispered lovingly in her true voice. "One day I'll be your daughter again; you'll see."

Her father had to have been going through a similar breakdown, because he did not scold her for her lapse. Instead he hugged her back and struggled to talk without crying. "I love you too, sweetheart. I look forward to saying your name again."

She gave him a tearful smile, and kissed his cheek once before drying her eyes against her bearskin cloak and grabbing her bags again.

Knowing that she and her father could spend hours with their goodbyes, she took off running as soon as snow crunched beneath her feet.

"Come back someday!" her father called after her, suppressing a sob as his voice faded behind her.

She didn't dare look behind her. She would start crying again if she did that and she didn't want tears freezing onto her face as they had done after she said goodbye to Machida.

Machida… he had just proposed to Sakura when she was finally able to sew a straight and even seam. Perhaps knowing the fuss he'd make to ensure her attendance to the wedding had helped give her the extra incentive to fulfill the last of her training.

'_No, don't think of him! Even if I'd have had a chance as Haru, it's over now. He's made his choice, and it isn't me.'_

She had been foolish to think that she ever had a chance. The village had not accepted her at all, and even if she still had to leave, it would have been unfair to ask someone like Machida to wait for her to find a cure.

After all, she was just a cursed trapper. What could someone like her have to offer a future mayor? Although leadership of the town wasn't passed down through a family, she couldn't imagine anyone else filling his father's shoes in time.

Hours must have passed before she finally slowed to a halt. She collapsed against a snow bank, gasping for breath as her legs gave out. The young woman had never run for so long before, even during her first trip to the village. She looked up and around her for familiar landmarks, but she was now far beyond the territory she had hunted with her father.

For the first time in her life, she didn't know where she was, and there probably wasn't another soul for _miles_. It was a lonelier feeling than she thought it was going to be.

"I'd better get used to it," she grumbled to herself, feeling around for one of the small bags attached to her belt. Once she found the one she wanted, she pulled out her new compass to get her bearings.

She had been heading east, almost northeast. She turned a bit, watching as the little needle moved around inside the glass.

Southeast. Sure, why not?

She tucked the compass away for now and resumed her journey at a more regular pace.

A sudden caw caught her attention. She looked up to see a crow flying over her head, its black feathers rustling slightly in the cold wind. It kept circling over her head, cawing time and again.

The polar woman gave it an annoyed look. "I'm not that interesting, go away," she called up to it before breaking into a run. Who knew how far away the lands of grass were from where she was? What sort of things awaited her there?

… Would grass crunch under her feet the way snow did? The few pictures she had seen in the books her parents had given her made grass look like green snow, but if it grew from the ground, how could it be powdery like snow?

At least the crow had left her alone. They were said to bring bad luck, and although she wasn't superstitious, she didn't want to take unnecessary chances with her quest. She kept running, only pausing to rest when the sun was about an hour from setting. There were a number of dark clouds overhead, so instead of using the tarp, she immediately started burrowing into a large snow dune, using her bearskin cloak to pound and pound on the snow until she had a hole big enough for herself and her two bags of provisions.

Since it was foolish to light a fire inside a snow cave, she set out her partially folded tarp for a place to lie down. She nibbled on a bit of rabbit jerky as the sun fell and the wind began to pick up. Snow began flying through the mouth of her little sanctuary, making her wrap her bearskin cloak tighter around her body.

She knew she should be resting, but she felt too numb to sleep. Crying might be more appropriate, since she wasn't certain if she would ever see her beloved father again, but she knew better than to let herself cry. Once she started, it became almost impossible for her to stop. She kept staring into the whirling storm, her mind as blank as the snow around her.

She leaned against the firmly packed wall and tried to think about sleep. Who knew how many weeks of walking she had before leaving the Northern Lands?

Suddenly, a sharp cry was heard over the howling wind. The young woman sat up straight with wide eyes. She looked deeper into the swirling snow, trying to determine if the sound had been her imagination.

"What would someone else be doing all the way out here?" she asked aloud, looking around to ensure that she would be able to find her makeshift cave again. She crawled out, letting the harsh wind slap icy snowflakes against her skin as she pulled the hood over her head.

"Is someone out there?" she called as loud as she could, fighting to keep her balance against the wind.

"He-Help!" an old voice managed to rasp out.

Experienced with how the northern storms sometimes threw voices, the girl kept calling out, slowly working her way closer to the voice.

After a few minutes, she tripped over a leg, getting a face full of snow before climbing to her knees.

An old woman, wrapped in multiple layers of dark grey, cried out from the pain.

"Sorry about that. It's hard to see in this kind of weather," the girl informed her as she brushed some of the snow from the woman's legs and picked her up as gently as possible.

"Aye, 'tis always hard for me to see, lassie."

The young trapper cocked her head, having never heard that word before, or that accent. But now was not the time to ask about such things.

"Please don't worry about a thing, I'm a friend," she reassured the old woman as she began making careful steps back to her hideaway.

The old woman sighed with relief, putting her frozen arms around the girl's neck. "You're a young'in, aren't you?"

"I will be seventeen soon, yes," she admitted, being careful with her footing. "We're almost there, don't worry."

"Oh no. I'm not worried anymore," the old woman sighed as the younger one got to her knees and carried her into the small enclosure.

It'd be a bit cramped with two bodies, but there was no way in heck that she'd leave another human being to freeze to death. "Sorry that it's so small, I wasn't expecting to see anyone out here." She gently laid down the old woman over her tarp and pulled her cloak over in a way to cover both of them.

As she did so, she looked deep into the woman's eyes for the first time. They were sort of milky and seemed to stare past her.

"Is something wrong, lassie?" she asked curiously, after perhaps a moment of silence.

"I don't know. I've never seen eyes like yours before."

The old woman laughed. "These old eyes of mine haven't seen anything in a long time. Don't let them bother you."

The young girl looked at her a bit longer, but adjusted her cape again.

Once they were both under her cloak, the young woman first gave a warm embrace to share her body heat, and then began massaging the old woman's hands and back. She'd have done the same for the woman's feet, but that would have left her upper body without the cloak, and she was too cold for the girl to even _consider_ leaving her partially exposed to the elements.

"Don't worry, you're going to be fine," she encouraged the woman, who sighed in gratitude.

"What a kind lassie you are. No stranger's ever shown me such kindness before."

The young woman stiffened angrily before giving her another warm hug. "Then it was long overdue. Were you lost?"

"Oh no, I know exactly where I was. But I wasn't expecting the storm to come up."

The one wearing the cloak smiled gently, since it wouldn't betray her for once. "It's been building for an hour. I'm impressed that you got so close to my shelter before collapsing."

The blind woman smiled at her a little crookedly. "These old bones are tougher than they look. I'll be fine in a few hours."

The girl bit her lip worriedly. The woman literally looked as fragile as a paper doll. Even her mother had seemed healthier than she, but had suffered much less exposure than this woman. "The storm probably won't blow over until morning, but I don't mind sharing my makeshift cave until then. I have some water, if you're thirsty."

"That sounds lovely, dear," the woman said enthusiastically, making the younger one reach into one of her bags with difficulty and pull out a water skin. Her hands were so _frail_, that the young girl needed to help her drink as well, keeping one hand on her back for support.

"I have some rabbit jerky, if you're hungry."

"Thank ye, lassie, but my teeth can't handle jerky."

She gave the woman another hug as their body temperatures began to even out. "What does that word mean, lassie?"

"It means young lady, of course."

The trapper froze in horror. "I'm a boy-er, a man."

The old woman laughed, almost like a cawing sound. "I may be blind, lass, but I know a lady when I meet one. Thank you for helping me, by the way."

"I'm a man," she insisted.

"Now stop that. It's been a long day and I'm not up to arguing when I know I'm right. Please, can we just sleep?" the older woman begged tiredly.

"… Yes," the trapper almost whispered, wrapping her arms around the woman. "But please don't tell anyone I'm a girl. It's kind of important that no one knows."

"I don't even know your _name_, child! How can I tell anyone what you are if I don't know _who _you are, or what you look like?"

"… Good point," she couldn't help but laugh in her true voice, holding the old woman closer. "Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams, lassie."

ooOoo

"… Mother? Mother, please answer me!" a voice called out, close enough to force the trapper to wake up.

"Is… someone out there?" she called out around a yawn, looking out the opening of her little cave. It was partially snowed in, but a few good kicks opened it up again.

"Oh, is someone over there? Have you seen an old woman?" a masculine voice asked worriedly.

"You watch who you're calling old, boy!" the blind woman snapped at him, waking in an instant.

"Your son, I'm guessing?" the trapper asked, remembering to stick to the masculine voice as she carefully helped her companion out of the snow cave.

"Aye, that's him. Where are you, boy?" she snapped in irritation.

"I'm over here, Mother," a middle-aged man said with relief as he pushed through the snow to greet them. But he stopped cold in his tracks when he got a good look at the trapper. His eyes were as black as his mother's were grey, and filling with shock.

She looked at him calmly, daring him to say anything about her appearance. "Would you like me to help you to him? He seems reluctant to come any closer."

"I'm not surprised. What were you thinking, leaving me behind?" the older woman demanded of her son. "If it weren't for this trapper, I'd have died last night! Hey, help me closer to him so I can whack the boy!"

Fighting back an evil grin, the younger woman did as she requested, lifting her completely over one snow drift to place her where it was closer to the ground. "He's over this way."

"M-Mother, let's not be hasty," the man pleaded, still staring at the girl with wild eyes as he tripped on a snow bank.

"It's sheer luck that I heard her last night," the trapper informed him in a humorless tone, carefully setting the woman next to him.

As soon as the blind woman was certain where her son was, she gave him a good whack upside the head. "This is for leaving without me! This is for not talking to Michael before leaving! This is for not looking in the wagon to see if I was there!"

With each thing she listed, she gave the man another blow to his head or shoulder, making him attempt to deflect the blows while crawling away from her in the snow.

"I'm sorry, Mother! Michael was taking a nap when we decided to move on, so I was sure you were in the wagon!"

"You're a merchant," the trapper realized. Perhaps this was the one she had to thank for the dried spices in one of her bags.

"Ye-ouch! That's right," the man confirmed as he got yet another blow. "Thank- ouch! For… helping my mother?" He seemed dubious by now whether or not he was indebted to her.

"My pleasure, but please be more careful with her in the future," she informed him through a stiff smile, turning to unbury her two bags.

"Son, do we have anything to thank him with?" the woman asked, thankfully sticking to her promise to keep quiet about the trapper's gender.

"I didn't bring much, Mother. Just Apple so that I could try finding your… well, you," the man said, nervously gesturing at the brown horse that was a fair distance from them.

The horse was moving nervously from side to side, looking at the trapper with wide nervous eyes.

She bit back a wave of melancholy, since animals had never liked her. She didn't know if it was because of her curse or because of something she personally was, but no animal was willing to come anywhere near her.

Such a detail had certainly livened up her training as a trapper, but at least she knew how to get around their disdain to ply her trade.

"Thank you all the same, but I need to get going and I'm sure that-"

"Nonsense! I owe you my life and I refuse to let you leave without giving you something in return. Wait, did you say Apple's with you?"

"Yes, Mother," the man said weakly, rubbing at his head and shoulders sorely.

"Then I think there's something suitable. Come here, my little dumpling," she cooed at the horse, which neighed in response but didn't come closer. "What's wrong, my little one?"

"I'm too close," the trapper mumbled self-consciously, taking several steps back before retrieving her things.

"Oh don't be silly, my Apple likes everybody. Come here, you silly little thing," the woman lovingly scolded the horse, who was neighed happily and trotted over of her, although it seemed to keep an eye on the girl.

"Actually, Mother, I think he has a point because-"

"Oh, hush!" she snapped as she climbed to her feet and began feeling around the horse's packs. "What is your problem anyway, boy?"

"… Are you aware that the one who rescued you is an albino?"

The trapper cocked her head in confusion. She had never heard that word before, either.

"So what if he is? Doesn't make a bit of difference to- ah, here it is!" she crowed triumphantly, pulling something brown and flimsy from one of the saddle bags. "Give this to him, son."

"Are you sure about this, Mother? That's your lucky satchel," he reminded her, still giving the girl a nervous look.

"I know, and this gentleman deserves some luck, I'm thinking. Give it to him," she commanded like a leader.

It was hard for her to fight back a smile as the man hesitantly approached her with the offering. But he kept staring as she accepted the satchel. "Hold on, you can't be an albino; your eyes are black!"

"Will you behave yourself?" his mother snapped at him as the trapper looked at the satchel.

It was well-worn, a plain brown bag with a buckle for the top flap. But it also had another buckle for the strap, which meant that she could put it on under her cloak.

"This looks like it will be very useful. Thank you, madam."

"My pleasure, sir. Oh, and don't be fooled by its looks, it'll hold more than you think. Well, come on, son! The entire caravan is probably waiting for us!"

"As you wish, Mother. … Thank you again, stranger," the man said uncomfortably as he helped his mother onto the horse.

"You're welcome, but don't forget to check for her again," she warned him, folding up the satchel before retrieving her things from the partially collapsed cave.

The last thing she wanted was to put on the satchel and have it fade to white in front of the man.

"Oh, and one more thing, good trapper?" the old woman called out before her son led the relieved horse away. "If you're hoping for warmer weather, head directly south!"

"I'll do that, and thank you!" the cursed girl called back in a gruff voice. She extracted her two bags from the snow, stuffed the satchel into the one with her clothes, and resumed her march after getting her bearings.

After a few moments, she heard a familiar caw. She looked up to see that the crow had resumed circling over her head. "Oh, for crying out loud! I'm not that interesting!" she snapped at the bird before running at top speed.

But something was wrong this time. One bag or another was constantly bumping against her body in an awkward way, which threw off her balance for running. Weight wasn't an issue; it was almost never an issue for her. It was just the bulkiness that was getting to her.

"Can one little bag make that much of a difference?" she sighed in defeat, slowing to a halt. She pulled the satchel out and looked at it.

It flopped over her hand, almost mocking her for thinking that it was the problem. She gave a good look around to ensure that she was alone save for the stupid crow and buckled the bag over her shoulder, but under her cloak.

It wasted no time losing it's color like the rest of her. Just to help out with the burden, she decided to put in her water skins.

But as soon as she let go of the first one, the weight of it disappeared from the satchel. She gasped in surprise and opened it up. The water skin was gone. There was absolutely nothing in the bag.

"No," she whispered, since she needed the skin if not the water within. She thrust her hand into it desperately… and grabbed the water skin by the narrow end.

She blinked twice and pulled it out to inspect it. "What _is _this thing?" she asked aloud while staring at the satchel in disbelief.

The old woman had said not to be fooled by its looks.

Hesitantly, the young woman put both of the water skins into the satchel and looked into it. There was no trace of either of them.

She had also said that the satchel was able to hold more than she thought. But how much more?

The trapper wasted no time opening one of her bags to slowly move things into the satchel. But no matter how much she loaded into it, it still looked and felt like it was empty. Both of her traveling bags had been large, large enough to hide children in, but by the time she was done transferring her belongings, even the empty bags had been stuffed into the satchel.

"Maybe I should have tried this before putting in everything," the girl fretted, sticking her hand for her small cooking pot. Her hand immediately found it, but nothing else. She tried this for a variety of her supplies before being satisfied that she could retrieve whatever she wanted, just by wanting it.

The cursed trapper looked behind her, only to notice that the crow had been watching her from a nearby rock, cocking its' head at her slightly. But by now, she could barely care about being followed by the bird. "I'll probably have to be careful with using this thing when people are around, eh?" she asked with a nervous laugh as she put everything back into the satchel.

The crow cawed at her, almost like an agreement.

The cursed teenager stood up, and took out her compass to locate south. Then she put it back into one of the little bags that was tied to her belt and began running as fast as she could.

She had never run so fast without luggage before. It was just her, and endless miles of snow between her and the southern lands. It was an exhilarating feeling… but also terrifying. There was no telling what she was going to find down there, or if she would even survive it. For all she knew, the people in the southern kingdoms were even colder than the villagers.

'_I want to be Haru again. I don't want to hide who I am anymore. I want to find out who I am without this stupid cloak. Mama, I hope you're watching over me, because I don't want to face this alone.'_

Plus she didn't want the crow to be her only companion. It gave her the creeps.


	5. Wherever You Go

A/N; Merry Christmas! An early update for this week since I'm leaving on a family trip soon.

**Chapter Five: Wherever You Go**

_Wherever you go, go with all your heart._

_-Confucius_

xxXxx

The young trapper stared shamelessly at the thin strip of green in the distance. Was it really there, or was she having another dream? Her heart beat unsteadily in her chest, but that didn't stop her from running as fast as possible for the strip of green.

The strip began to widen into a carpet as she drew closer, but it took another day of heavy running for the snow to disappear underneath her feet. Trees slowly became more abundant, and the air was no longer cold enough to make her breath steam like smoke.

And the _colors_! Green and brown were the dominant ones, in more shades than she could count in the plant life and the ground, beautifully accented by even more colors in the forms of flowers and birds. There were even some butterflies flying around!

"This is amazing," she whispered, kneeling in order to caress the grass with both hands. It was nothing like snow; actually more akin to fur! It had long strands like hair, but wasn't as thick as fur. But it was soft, cool, and had a pleasant scent that she inhaled greedily.

"How could my parents just _leave _a place like this?" she asked aloud, even though she knew that she wouldn't get an answer. Well, other than distant birdsong, that is.

After a while, she forced herself to start walking again, but much slower than she had when it was snow beneath her feet. She still took breaks to hunt and sleep, but the urgency wasn't as bad as before. Perhaps knowing that the threat of snow storms was now behind her allowed her to relax, just a little bit.

ooOoo

Roughly a week after she left the Northern Lands, a sharp cry was heard through the forest, sending many birds into the sky.

The young trapper looked up from the rabbit she was skinning, stuffed it in the satchel, and immediately started running.

"Someone help us!" another voice cried out, just as the trapper broke through a large hedge and jumped a small height to a strange dirt path that was surprisingly wide.

She looked up, assessing what had happened in an instant. A band of robbers had surrounded two strange-looking covered wagons, killing off men that were all wearing the same kind of clothes.

Everyone had stopped moving when she revealed herself, staring at her with open mouths.

The young trapper glared at the robbers. "Leave them alone or face my wrath," she growled at them in as menacing a tone as possible.

One with a rather ugly scar across his face flinched back from her, but stood up tall. "Well, what are you waiting for? Kill him!"

Two of the bandits were brave enough to approach her, but they were so scared that it took almost no effort at all to break one man's arm and deliver a blow to the other one's head. He fell to the ground unconscious.

"Who's next?" she snarled, popping her knuckles threateningly as she stepped closer to the strange wagons.

A few of the bandits fled in fear, but others stood their ground. Since she didn't want to actually kill anyone, she was careful to make her blows incapacitate rather than eliminate her opponents.

The bandit with the ugly scar pulled out a giant dagger, or it might have been a sword, like her father had told her about.

He swung it madly, but all he managed to do was cut one of the girl's arms before she punched his lights out.

"I hate stupid people," she muttered under her breath, keeping one hand over her wound as she looked over her shoulder.

The first wagon had large windows in it, enough to see that there was an old man and a young girl; perhaps the ones that had called out for help. They, along with the remaining men that dressed the same, were staring at her fearfully. The second wagon appeared to have supplies, although she couldn't tell, since everything was covered with a sturdy cloth.

"How many were hurt?" she asked, remembering to use her masculine voice.

"T-Ten of us, good spirit," the man inside the wagon said nervously as some of the servants tried to soothe the terrified horses.

She gripped her wound a little tighter as a bitter smile crossed her lips. "I assure you I'm completely human. See?" The girl let go of her arm long enough to give them a glimpse of her blood before gripping it again. She didn't want them to see how the stain of her blood would fade from her white shirt. "Was that all the help you needed?"

"I… I don't know," the man stammered, still staring at her in fear. "We have a long way to go and there could be more robbers along the way."

The trapper looked down at the scarred man, probably their leader. She picked up his long sword, as well as relieving him of a strange belt that had held it at his waist for him.

She belted it over her own waist, remembering too late that it would change to white. She could hear their sharp intakes of breath as both the red stains on her sleeve and the brown scabbard faded completely white, making her flinch slightly.

But that didn't stop her from sliding the slightly rusted sword into the scabbard. "If there _are _any more robbers out there," she said slowly, giving them a humorless smile. "They will be in for a nasty surprise. I'll keep watch from the trees, so don't fear to continue your journey." Just to drive her point home, she gave the man a respectful bow and marched to the side of the path to jump up the small cliff and disappear through the thick green foliage.

"… Father? What _was _that?" she heard the young girl ask as the men wearing the same clothes began loading their wounded and dead onto the supply wagon.

"I don't know, dear heart. Not even albinos are as white as that man."

_'There's that word again. I wonder if they're a race of people that Papa forgot to tell me about.' _She shrugged it off and pulled out a clean rag to bind her cut with.

"Still, it was rather lucky that he's chosen to help," one of the men said as he snapped his fingers at the others. His suit was a little different, perhaps ranking him as the leader of the servants.

"Quite right. Well, let's be on our way. Who or whatever that man is, I think he can be trusted," the old man said nervously, as he eyed where the trapper was currently hiding.

_'Why wouldn't I be trustworthy? I just saved him and his daughter.' _She shook off the thought and sighed as she began sneaking through the trees to follow after them. At some points, she even traveled ahead of them to be sure of their safety.

By the time the company stopped to make camp, the sun was starting to set. The young trapper slipped out of the bushes and made a polite bow to the man as he stumbled out of the strange wagon.

"There appears to be no other bandits in the area, but the ones we've already met may decide to catch up with us."

"I rather doubt that, after how badly you trounced them," he said with a nervous laugh.

She shrugged dismissively, but stepped away from the carriage when the horses became a little too agitated by her presence. "I don't like taking chances with lives. I'll keep watch to be on the safe side."

"Aren't you hungry, sir? I mean, you do eat, don't you?"

"Of course I eat; I already told you I'm human." She looked at her cut sleeve with distaste, seeing the equally pale bandage underneath. "I'm just a human that got on the wrong side of a fairy, that's all."

"You are? What did you _do_?" he asked in horror.

She gave him a long look and sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was explain what had happened when she was seven; he was already terrified enough of her. "Don't worry, my curse is completely personal. It won't touch you or anything that is yours. If it could harm you, I wouldn't have come along." She once again bowed to the man and retreated to the trees.

The trapper bit back a sigh as she climbed a tree to sit on a high branch. _'I wonder how many more times I'm going to get asked that. Does it even matter?'_

She scanned both ends of the strange dirt path, finding nothing. So she kept her eyes on the forest, on alert for any suspicious movements.

But no, nothing appeared to be wrong. Perhaps the bandits she had already taken care of were the only ones around. She leaned against the sturdy trunk and watched the stars slowly emerge.

How strange. The stars looked exactly the same here as they did up north. With one finger, she began tracing imaginary pictures between the shimmering dots.

"Sir? Sir, I have some food for you," a hesitant voice called up to her.

The trapper looked down to see the young girl from the wagon, holding a loaf of bread and an… apple? Pomegranate? She couldn't tell from up here. "I'll be right down," she called in a gruff voice, standing up in order to jump from branch to branch.

The last one was too small for her weight, making it snap and send her to the ground.

"Ouch!" she cried out, landing directly on her backside.

"Are you all right?" the girl asked in horror, kneeling next to her.

"Y-Yeah, just a little bruised," she assured the younger girl, rubbing at her rear with one hand. "By the way, don't try that; it hurts."

The young girl giggled and offered her the bread and apple. "You're funny."

"Thank you." The trapper looked from the two items in her hands, choosing to take a big bite out of the apple. It crunched between her teeth, and was very sweet and juicy.

"You're not supposed to eat the core," the girl informed her with another giggle, but was a little too late to stop her.

"I don't care. It was delicious," the pale woman replied, just remembering to keep her voice gruff like a man's. She started tearing bits off of the loaf to eat them slowly. Even the bread was better than she had ever tasted! As much as she didn't want to admit it, even her mother's didn't taste as good.

"You make that sound as if you've never had an apple before," the girl said, sitting down next to her.

"I haven't, that was my first one. Thank you for giving it to me. Have you already eaten?" she suddenly asked, holding the partial loaf back to the young girl.

"Yes, but thank you. How come you've never had an apple before? Our kingdom always has apples."

"This is my first time out of the Northern Lands. Only an occasional tree grows up there, but there's a lot of snow and ice."

The little girl gasped in shock. "You're from… up there?" She pointed into the woods.

"Actually, I think north is that way." The trapper pointed in the opposite direction. "But yes, I'm from up there."

"Is it cold up there?"

She nodded after swallowing her mouthful of bread. "Very cold. That's partially why I came here; I wanted to see what grass is like." She patted the ground next to her, running the green blades through her fingers. "It's even better than I hoped."

"Grass is definitely better, but you can't sled on it," the girl informed her with a shy smile. But one of her little hands wandered to the soft fur of her cape, and ran her fingers through it. "What kind of fur is this?"

"Bear," she whispered, thinking back to that day.

"No bear has white fur!"

"Polar bears do. They're very big and very mean."

"Did you kill this one?" The little girl tugged on the edge of her cloak.

"… Yes. I'd rather not talk about it, if it's all right with you."

"Oh. Okay. Do… all Northern people look like you?" the tiny girl asked slowly, as if she was afraid.

"Not a one of them; I'm cursed. So, little one; where is your company headed?" the trapper asked, hoping to avoid more questions.

The little girl beamed shyly. "My father has arranged my betrothal, so we're going to go meet my future family."

The trapper stared at her in shock. "But you're just a child! Why get engaged so soon?"

"Father says I'll understand when I'm older, but he says the boy I'm going to marry is very nice. I hope he knows how to play chess."

"… I bet he does," the trapper comforted, although still taken aback by the strange custom. _'Whatever happened to letting children be children while they have the chance?'_ She finished her bread, and dared a small smile at the child. "You should probably head back to your father. Little girls like you need to get their rest."

_"Pretty girls like you should stay safe," _her father whispered in her mind.

She flinched at the memory, making the girl look at her worriedly.

"Are you all right?"

"… Of course. Now get to bed, little one. We probably have a long way to go."

The little girl nodded happily, but gave her a hug around the neck as well as a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for rescuing us, Mr. Bear."

"Y-You're welcome. Now scoot," she reminded the child, trying not to think about how good it felt to be _hugged_.

She gave the trapper another smile, but disappeared through the bush to rejoin the camp.

"What is your name, by the way?" the trapper asked, unreasonably curious.

"Marian Fitzwalter. What's yours?"

"Um, well… I don't have one," the older girl admitted, staring at her perfectly white snow boots. "Not since I got cursed."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Good night, Mr. Bear."

It was hard to keep from smiling at the child. "Good night, Marian."

ooOoo

It took longer for the rest of the company to warm up to her. In fact, in the week that it took to reach their destination, only Marian, her father, and the captain of the guard were willing to actually speak to her without shaking from fear.

"So, that's a castle?" the trapper asked, staring at the large stone hut, larger than anything she had ever seen before, except a few mountains.

"Yes, that is Locksley castle. They will be most grateful when I tell them of your rescue," Lord Fitzwalter told her with a small smile.

She looked at Marian, and allowed herself a small smile as she lightly jogged next to the carriage. "I bet they will. Well, it's not too likely that you'll meet up with robbers again, so I guess it's time to part ways." _'I need to jump into a river before I roast! Why is the sun so hot?' _She was definitely having second thoughts about wearing three shirts in this kind of weather, and her feet were sweating profusely in her snow boots.

"What, no!" he protested. "Lord Locksley will be just as grateful to you as I am, and he would handsomely reward you for protecting us."

She gave him a surprised look. "Do you really think that's why I helped you? A reward?"

He looked at her with surprise.

She sighed a strange growl and shook her head. "I help to help; that is all. I still have a long way to go before reaching my own destin-" She cut off with wide-eyed horror and hopped completely over the carriage.

Even as the lord and his daughter gasped in surprise, a strange projectile shot out of the forest, faster than anything the trapper had ever seen. But, somehow, she was able to snatch it right out of the air before it could hit Marian, landing on her knees on the opposite side of the wagon.

"Mr. Bear!" the girl cried out as the trapper gasped from the pain. She dropped the strange stick, which was dripping with her blood. Two long slashes had been cut deep into her palm.

The servant driving the carriage muttered a startled oath as the horses reared and neighed madly. The soldiers that were escorting them drew closer to the carriage with raised weapons.

"Oh no, did my son hit anyone?" a deep voice called out from between the trees.

Lord Fitzwalter looked deep into the forest, looking angrier than the trapper had ever seen him before. "You almost hit my daughter, Robin! You ended up hitting Mr. Bear!"

"Mr. Bear? Who on earth is Mr. Bear?" the man asked, pushing back a few bushes only to stop cold outside the foliage. Wordlessly, he stared at the completely white woman.

The trapper gave him a grim smile, and showed her cut palm as she searched her satchel for another bandage. "His lordship was referring to me." _'Dang it; why don't I have more cloth for bandages?'_

"Oh, Mr. Bear! I'm so sorry!" Marian sobbed, forcing the carriage door open so that she could stumble out and wrap her arms around the older girl's neck. "You got hurt over me _again_!"

"These things happen, Marian. Thank you, sir," the trapper said gratefully as the man not only pulled out a handkerchief, but personally wrapped it around her wounded hand. The cloth was white, so he couldn't see her curse in action.

"I really am sorry about my son, I'll have him move his target the other way. Usually he's a much better shot, but…" He gave Marian an affectionate, though slightly sly smile. "He's very nervous about meeting you, little maiden."

The trapper could feel the girl tremble slightly and patted her shoulder in comfort.

The man noticed the interaction with a raised eyebrow. "Are you a new servant of Lord Fitzwalter?"

"I was actually considering hiring him, but Mr. Bear is a trapper that was kind enough to help us against a band of thieves on the way here."

The lord was still looking at the trapper and at the hand still in his grasp.

Feeling a bit nervous about the way he was holding her hand, the trapper respectfully wiggled her hand out of his grasp. "But now that you're here, all of you should be safe. Be a good girl, Marian. I need to get going."

"With how deep those cuts are? Nonsense, I have an excellent physician working for me. Come out here, Robin!" Lord Locksley called, placing himself in a way that would discourage the trapper from leaving. "There's a special lady waiting for you!"

_'He's talking about Marian. He's talking about Marian. Steady, easy girl…'_

A tousle-haired boy stumbled out of the bushes, with a strange looking branch slung over one shoulder. He brushed some leaves from one sleeve, never taking his eyes off of the little girl.

Marian stared back at him, her little blue eyes wide with wonder.

"Go on," the trapper whispered, taking the girl's arms off her neck, and gently urging her to step forward.

She gave the trapper a nervous look, but took a few steps closer to the boy to curtsy to him. "Greetings, Robin of Locksley."

"G-Greetings, Marian of Fitzwalter," the boy stammered, blushing redder than an apple as he gave her a polished bow. "Welcome to the Locksley estate."

"Welcome, indeed!" his father exclaimed, smiling widely at Lord Fitzwalter. "Please, I have been preparing a banquet for your arrival, and we wouldn't want all that good food to go to waste. To the castle!"

"To the castle, and don't you try to sneak away, Mr. Bear," Lord Fitzwalter scolded as she started sidestepping away from the carriage.

"You're safely at your destination, there's no need for me to stay-"

"Stuff and nonsense! You are welcome at Locksley Hall, and I insist that you at least stay one night." He walked up behind her and started gently pushing her by the shoulders toward his castle. "Come along, Robin. Our guests are tired."

"Yes, Father," the lad replied, shyly offering one arm to Marian.

She smiled just as shyly before putting her hand on his arm.

_'How did I get talked into this? Maybe I should have left earlier… but then Marian might have gotten killed. Dang it, why do I have a bad feeling about this?'_

ooOoo

"What _was _that thing you shot back there? Really, just out of this bow? How does it work- oops," the cursed man said sheepishly as he accidentally broke the string of Robin's bow.

"You pulled too hard on the string. How strange, you didn't look like you were pulling all that hard," Lord Locksley noted in confusion as he took the bow back.

Mr. Bear looked incredibly guilty, but said nothing.

As Lady Locksley watched her husband restring the bow, her eyes kept straying to the pale man who had come to the Fitzwalter family's rescue. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something… _off_, about the trapper. It wasn't enough to trigger her sense of danger, but it was enough to make her pay attention to the cursed youth.

Later that day, he only seemed to get stranger.

"Didn't I provide you with different clothes?" her husband asked in confusion, when Mr. Bear joined them in the main hall for supper.

"I'm wearing them. Why do you ask?" he asked while sitting down in the chair Lord Locksley gestured at.

"The servants must have misunderstood me; I asked for something less… disturbing. Not to be offensive, but is it necessary to wear all that white?"

Again that guilty look. "It's not something I have a choice in, sir. My curse doesn't allow for color."

"Well, could you at least remove the cloak? We're indoors, after all, and it's a warm evening."

The trapper started studying the sturdy shoes he had been given. "I can't remove the cloak. It's the root of my curse."

"If you don't mind my asking, what did you do to warrant a curse?" Lady Locksley asked, willing to at least give the man the benefit of a doubt.

If Mr. Bear had been anyone else, he might have flushed. As things were, he kept his eyes to the table and tightened his fists painfully. "I'd really rather not talk about it, if it's all the same to you."

"Darling, leave the man alone," her husband implored worriedly. "He has already assured us that no mischief will come over his curse."

So why didn't she feel reassured? If it wasn't over safety, why was she so worried?

For days, she studied Mr. Bear from afar, watching from a window as both her husband and son began passing on their knowledge of archery to the cursed man, even if he had a strange knack for accidentally breaking bowstring after bowstring. But after a few days, Mr. Bear was able to draw a bow without breaking it, and could shoot it fairly well in a few more. Nothing like her son, of course, but well enough to take down a deer if she needed to.

Lady Locksley started at the thought. _She_? Mr. Bear was a man; why did she think that? Sure, he had good table manners for a peasant, and looked a bit like a girl, but that didn't make him a girl!

… Did it?

ooOoo

"Are you certain that I can't convince you to stay?" Lord Locksley asked sadly, two weeks after the arrival of the Fitzwalter family.

Mr. Bear was clearly fighting back his emotions, but was remaining firm. "If I weren't cursed, I'd be more than happy to work for you or Lord Fitzwalter. But I don't want to turn into a bear after I die, and there's a cure out there somewhere."

"Well, I wish you all the luck in the world, _and don't forget to leave your gloves on_," he whispered while shaking hands one last time.

"_Right_," Mr. Bear whispered back, looking a little nervous as he shouldered back the bow Robin had given him for rescuing Marian twice and the modest bag of supplies the lord had given him. "Take care of the children; they're magnets for trouble."

"I am well aware of that," Lord Locksley laughed, slapping the cursed trapper on the shoulder. "Make good use of what I've given you, and good luck."

A small smile managed to escape his mouth. "Good luck to you too, sir." With that, Mr. Bear gave one of his strange bows, and took off running into the woods.

"The road is the other way, Mr. Bear!" Lady Locksley called out, but her husband put a hand on her arm.

"Let him be, love. With his curse, he'd be better off sticking to less traveled areas."

"… Well, I suppose he _would _attract a little too much attention on the roads," she conceded. "But why on earth does he need to keep his gloves on?"

"The cuts Robin gave him are still healing and…" he trailed off with a strange smile. "His skin is surprisingly delicate."

_'Like a girl's? No, don't think that, perhaps it's part of his curse.' _"I wonder what he'll look like, if he finds a cure-"

"_When _he finds the cure," her husband was quick to correct her, looking strangely defensive. "He'll find it. Anyone that rescues innocent lives without wanting a reward can reverse a fairy's curse."

"It was a fairy that cursed him?" Lady Locksley asked in horror. "What did he _do_?"

"I don't know. I couldn't make him tell me." He looked into the direction that Mr. Bear disappeared into and smiled sadly.

"All he said was that it was unavoidable and he'd do it again in a heartbeat."

ooOoo

After she ran long enough, the cursed woman slowed down in order to lean against a tree. She panted heavily, still unable to believe it. "How could _that _have given me away?" she whispered, taking off her right glove.

The trapper studied her slim callused hand while shaking her head. "… Would Machida have known if I ever touched him with a bare hand?"

Thank heaven Lord Locksley was the only man that had touched her skin since leaving her homeland. He understood how to keep a secret.


	6. Sure Does Rhyme

**Chapter Six: Sure Does Rhyme**

_The past may not repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme._

_-Mark Twain_

xxXxx

"Dang it!" the trapper cried out in frustration, almost ready to break the bow over her knee. "How can a nine year old make this look easy?"

With difficulty, she had managed to weave a target out of some dry grass, but unfortunately for her, she was better at making targets than hitting them. However, she had no problem with hitting _around _the target. The ground around the misshapen weave had several holes from her handful of arrows.

Why was this easier when a little boy was giving her advice? Sighing, she stomped forward to pull her five arrows out of the soft earth. "Maybe I should just stick to running down deer and such like I usually do."

"_A trapper finds his weakness and makes it his strength."_

Haru scowled at her father's counsel in disgust. But she sighed and stepped away from the target to try again. "Maybe if I aim for the ground, I'll get the target."

Nope. She ended up hitting a tree instead. A raccoon woke up and started making angry noises at her, almost like he was scolding her.

Frustrated, the trapper took three slow steps towards the tree, making the raccoon fearfully start hopping from tree branch to tree branch to escape her.

She pulled the arrow out of the tree, and tried again. _'If I was still Haru, I wouldn't have to worry about being bad at this.'_

ooOoo

The pale woman gaped in amazement, her black eyes wide with disbelief. Her gloved hands started shaking against the tree they were resting on, one hand loosening its hold on her bag.

"… That place… is _huge_!" she gasped in horror.

The trees she was hiding behind were on a hill overlooking a road. Unlike the one she had escorted the Fitzwalter family on, though, this one was made of stone, and led directly to a large gate of a great wall. The wall was made of yellow blocks and was taller than any she had ever seen before. But she was high enough to look over the wall and into the village within.

The village was… well, it was definitely bigger than the village she used to trade with. It was bigger than a _valley_, with tall buildings that were crowded close together, as if the wall was the only thing keeping them together like a bundle of sticks. Some of the buildings were bigger than others, as well as more colorful. Two of the biggest ones seemed to be castles like Robin's, but much bigger and grander.

The young woman turned away from the sight and sat down next to the tree. "Do I really need to go there?" she whispered in horror. Her very flesh recoiled from the idea. She had never been in a village like that; she could get lost in a heartbeat.

'_I don't want to go in there, it's scary! But it's been two weeks since I've eaten anything without meat. A place like that's __**bound **__to have a bakery, right? Maybe even a fruit stand? Yes, I can do this. I can do this.' _"I can do this," she affirmed in her masculine voice. "It's just a town, nothing more. Get in, do my business, get out; nice and quick. I hope."

It took a bit more coaxing than that, but after another few minutes, she was able to stand, throw her bag of hide and extra meat over one shoulder, and come out from the trees. Her shoes reluctantly picked out a safe route down the hill and came down on the stone road. Although it took just about all of her concentration, she was able to keep her face void of all emotion as she slowly approached the gate.

There were two men standing guard and both of them were staring at her suspiciously as she drew closer.

When she was ten feet from the gate, the men crossed their long spears over the entrance; their stance ready for a fight.

"What are _you_?" one of them sneered.

"I am a trapper, looking for a trading post. There's bound to be one in a place this size," she answered in a calm, indifferent tone. But inside, her heart was racing like a drum.

"Are you a human?" the other one asked suspiciously.

As much as the young woman was tempted to crack a joke, now was not the time. "Yes. Are you going to let me through, or is there another village nearby?"

The first one pointed down the road with his spear, although he was chuckling cynically. "There is a 'village' that way, about two leagues. Why don't you try your luck there?"

"I hunger for something other than meat and I tire of waiting." She growled in exasperation. "I'm not looking for trouble. I just want to trade my furs and get supplies. I won't even stay the night."

"… Do we have your word on that?" the second guard asked slowly.

The first one turned to him in a fury. "Are you out of your mind, Theodore? This albino's sure to cause trouble!"

She opened her mouth to deny being an albino, but quickly shut it again. If they were this prejudiced against a person who naturally had no color, telling them she was cursed would just invite more trouble.

"I am not interested in trouble. I wish only to trade and continue on my way."

The guards exchanged a long look, silently battling out their opinions.

"Depending on how quickly I find a place to trade, I might not even take an hour," she added in a gruff voice, wishing to be done with this stupid banter.

"… We'll hold you to that," the softer-voiced soldier informed her as he withdrew his spear, his companion reluctantly doing the same. "You'll find a place to trade three streets in, on the left. Most trappers go there."

"Thank you." She shouldered her bag of game a little better and marched in before they changed their minds.

The villagers she had been used to had grown used to her over the years and the people she had seen while helping the Fitzwalter family had a reason to at least respect her. So although she was expecting it, she was still a bit taken aback at how the people of this large village stared at her.

They literally stopped in their tracks, even stepping out of her way in order to avoid allowing her to grow too close. The trapper did her best to ignore them and kept marching down the side of the road.

'_Thank heaven I took a bath yesterday. That way they're just avoiding me because of my curse.'_

Most of the people she saw were finely dressed and whispering among themselves as she passed by, but again, she did everything in her power to ignore them as she continued her firm march.

After what felt like years, she finally saw a trading post, bigger than the one Tasho ran, but still smaller than most of the buildings in town. She was grateful for that. If the trading post had been one of the bigger buildings, she probably would have chickened out of going in.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up the steps and let herself in.

There were three other traders in the room and all of them stopped talking as soon as they got a good look at her. Noticing that they were in a line, she simply moved to the back of it without a word.

But the man at the front wasn't returning to haggling. All he wanted to do was stare at her.

"I am certain that everyone present would like to do more than stand in line today, sir," she informed the shopkeeper between her teeth.

That made him snap to attention and resume haggling with the trapper he had been dealing with. But she could tell that neither of them were playing the game to its fullest potential, because the coins that exchanged hands when he was done were almost pitiful and the trapper didn't even complain.

"I'm willing to let you go ahead of me," the man in front of her said nervously while stepping aside.

"I can wait my turn."

"Maybe you can, but we can't," the other trapper said, also moving to the side. "I'd rather not be distracted by you while I'm trying to focus."

She tilted her head at him with a humorless smirk. "Am I that much of a distraction?"

"… A-Actually, you are," the shopkeeper stammered, wiping at his balding head with a handkerchief. "Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

"If you insist," she replied coolly, stepping forward to throw her bag on the counter.

ooOoo

By the time she left the trading post, her large bag was even heavier than when she had entered. But that was fine by her, since the weight was due to fresh bread, two cheese rinds, a selection of fruits and vegetables, plus two large jugs of ale for curing hides. To top it off, she even had a modest amount of silver coins in one pocket.

'_I did even better than I do at home. Papa would be so proud…' _ Too bad a major part of her success had to do with the fact that the shopkeeper had been too frightened to make counter-offers.

There were many people outside the trading post, watching her every move as she stepped down the wooden stairs and resumed her march. She could tell that there was something different about the way everyone was staring at her now and it made her incredibly nervous.

It was the exact same way that the other villagers had looked at her. As if they had a right to judge her. But she kept her gaze ahead and her pace steady. It was a good thing she had no desire to stay the night, for she wasn't certain that any inn would have her.

Without warning, a rock hit her across the cheek, making her stop cold. She raised one hand to her cheek and felt the warmth of blood.

"Hey look, the freak bleeds," one small boy laughed, pointing at her as his mother pushed him behind her skirts.

The pale trapper glared at the boy, but kneeled down to pick up the rock.

"Don't you _dare _think of throwing that," his mother snarled, keeping herself in front of her child.

She merely looked at the woman… and crushed the rock between her fingers. Several fragments came loose and fell to the ground, showing what she was capable of.

Many who were watching gasped in shock, but again, she wasn't paying attention to anyone else.

She kept staring at the shocked mother, as she brushed her hand against her white cloak to be rid of the remaining pieces of rock. "I am not like you. I don't throw rocks." _'Not after what happened with the stupid snowball.'_

One thing was for sure; this was _not _the place that could cure her.

Without another word, she shouldered her bag again and started marching toward the exit with renewed vigor. The other villagers were even more eager than before to keep their distance and that was just fine by her, if all they were interested in was throwing rocks at her.

There were a few uniformed men that were following her, but as long as they didn't try to prevent her from leaving the city, she didn't care about the reason why.

After what felt like eternity, she finally reached the gate. Trying to disguise her eagerness, she ran out of it and onto the road.

"So? What do you think of the great capital of Figlash?" the more arrogant of the two guards sneered at her.

She stopped long enough to give them a cold glare. "I find it to be much more impressive from a distance. In fact, I think the more distance the better. Don't expect to see me again."

As the man made a sound of indignation, she started running down the road again. After she was no longer in sight of the gate, she disappeared into the trees and never looked back.

ooOoo

"Honestly, what is so terrible about teaching kids manners?" she snarled as she kept hacking at the straw dummy with the sword she stole from the robber chief. It swung from the cord she had hung it from, but didn't offer a reply.

"I mean, throwing snow balls is one thing, but a _rock_? How could that mother have just watched him do it and then defend him?" She growled in exasperation. "Maybe it has to do with living in a village. Needing a common enemy and all that garbage." _'Oh, Papa... why couldn't you have come anyway? I miss you so much. I hate talking to myself.'_

If she could just have a companion, maybe things wouldn't seem so bad. But who would want to follow her around the continent with no destination in mind? Even _she _didn't know where she was going!

She snarled under her breath, wishing that she would stop wishing it. "There isn't a human alive that would consent to that, even if they knew my secret."

ooOoo

It came in the middle of the night, a few days after trading with the Figlash capital. The pale woman's eyes snapped open at the sound, making her roll out of her tarp tent to go take a look.

There, through the trees, she could see torch lights and hear children crying. What was going on?

She began slipping silently through the trees, following at a safe distance.

"Shut your mouth, wretch! There's no one that can hear you," a greasy voice sneered as another cry became interrupted, and then louder, as if the child had been slapped.

Her blood immediately started boiling. As discreetly as she could, she continued to follow them, pocketing as many stones as she could find. _'I know I said I don't throw stones, but… those children need help.'_

"I wanna go home!" one child wailed, only to be silenced with another slap.

'_Okay, that's enough!' _Feeling her grandfather's blood rise in her veins, she tilted her head back and let out her best bear roar.

She knew it was a bad idea to give them even a little bit of warning, but she was **mad**.

The men screamed in horror, just as she burst through the foliage and slammed her fist into one man's face.

"No, Forest Spirit!" one man blubbered as she picked him up and threw him at another one of the men.

The children, all bound to each other in a line with a rope, were also screaming in fear as one of the men struggled to keep them from running off.

There were eight men in total, and although they were scared of her, they put up more of a fight than the last bandits she had faced and were far more experienced.

Unfeeling, unthinking; she did only what her animalistic mind could understand.

She killed them. Savagely and without mercy. She broke necks, shattered skulls, and in the case of their leader, beheaded him with his own sword.

"No, don't kill me!" a thin wiry man begged as she approached, the last of the band and the one holding the rope on the children. "Please no!"

"**Drop the rope!**" she snarled, raising the sword to strike him down.

He immediately did so and raised his arms over his head. "Show mercy, I had no choice!"

No choice.

Mercy.

… No choice?

She blinked at him, and let out a groan of pain as a massive headache took over her senses. She held both of her blood-dampened gloves to the sides of her head and stumbled a bit in her footing while dropping the sword.

By the time she was able to open her eyes again, the man was looking through his arms, looking scared and confused.

"… What were you going to do with them?" she demanded harshly, gesturing at the terrified children.

"I-I wasn't going to do anything! But our chief, the man I work for, he wanted them for the mine."

"What mine?" she asked in a slow, deliberate tone.

"It's a coal mine. Coal sells for a pretty penny, but he didn't want to waste money on slaves." His speech was starting to even out, but he was clearly terrified of her.

She looked over at the children, huddled together in fear against a rock face on the path they were on. "Then where did you get them?"

"We, that is our band, stole them. I'm not strong enough to fight, so I figure out how we do it."

The cursed trapper glared at him. "You willingly take children from their _homes_?"

"I don't have a choice! I'd have been killed if I try to leave the thieves' guild!" the man protested, holding his arms over his head again, in case she tried to hit him anyway.

"You… _you_…" she struggled to say through her headache, too furious for words. "You… sit over there, right now."

"Yes sir," the man complied, immediately sitting down where she pointed him to.

"If you try to leave, not only will I hunt you down, I'll do worse than kill you. Got it?" she warned him with a snarl.

"I got it," he agreed fearfully.

Now that he was under control, she looked at the children again. There were ten of them, ranging in ages perhaps five to twelve. All of them were dirty, scared, and clearly tired. They also looked like they hadn't had a good meal in a while.

"You," she said, pointing at one of the children. "Come here."

The boy froze in terror and clung to a bigger girl's skirt, possibly a sister.

She put her arms around the boy and looked at the trapper fearfully. "What are you going to do to him?" she asked in horror.

"He's at the end of the rope. I'm going to untie him, if he'll let me," the pale woman replied, getting down on her knees and removing her gloves. Although her curse had turned the men's blood white as usual, they were still wet and the boy couldn't know what she was by touch. "Then I will do the same for each of you. Come on, I won't hurt you, little one. Wouldn't you like that rope off? I bet it hurts."

The girl on the other end of it was braver. The ten year old took a deep breath and marched forward, forcing the other children to follow so that she could offer the trapper her wrists.

The rope was tied very tightly and her wrists had a bit of blood from where they rubbed too much. Since the knot proved to be too tight, the trapper ended up using a sword's edge to carefully cut until she could work the rope loose.

It took a while to do all the children, especially since they were clearly terrified of her, but it was managed within the hour.

"I'll have to make some salve for those rub burns," she mused out loud as she cut the last boy free from the rope. "All right, little one; go to the others."

He nodded happily and ran into the arms of the same girl that he had clung to before.

"Are your parents alive?" she asked them gently.

They looked from one to another, perhaps wondering which one should answer.

"My Papa's dead. He wouldn't let them take me," one girl piped up.

"My mama got hurt. I don't know if she's dead."

"My daddy-"

"My uncle-"

"Big brother-"

All the children were talking at once now, some of them crying again. But at least it wasn't the hysterical cries from before.

"Shh, shh," she soothed them, running her bare hands over their heads and faces to calm them down. "I'll make sure that all of you get home soon. I just need you to wait for me until I return, all right? Shh, shh…"

Eventually, they managed to do as she said, even following her through the foliage to where her tent was. She used the tarp like a blanket for them so that they could sleep while waiting for her.

Although she expected the man to be gone by the time she returned with her favorite weapons, he was still sitting where she had told him to, his eyes now full of wonder.

"You aren't a forest spirit, are you?" he asked softly.

Since he didn't appear to be onto her real secret, she decided to tell him at least part of the truth. "No, I'm not. I'm a cursed trapper that can't keep my nose out of other people's business. Now, I am going to ask you some questions, and if you value your life, you'll answer honestly. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. What do you need to know?" the man asked, turning fearful again.

She looked at the bodies she had slain while pulling on her gloves. A part of her felt empty, but there was no time to grieve over the lives she had taken. "Are these all of the thieves in your group, or guild?"

"Oh no, this was only some of them. There are many more in our headquarters."

"Are there any more children there?"

"Only fifteen, and _that's_ when we left a month ago. The rest have been worked to death."

Her blood began boiling again, despite the headache that still banged against her skull. "You are going to show me the way."

"N-No!" he gasped. "There's over twenty of them, they'll kill you!"

She smiled grimly. "Then my death will be honorable and they'll get a nasty surprise if they manage it."

"What do you mean? What surprise?" he asked in renewed terror.

"Suffice it to say; if they kill me, _run_. I won't say you don't have a choice, but I will say that if you don't help me save those children, the consequences will be… unpleasant." She gave a regretful look at the bodies she had just slaughtered.

Her hands shook in horror of her deed, but she didn't allow any other sign of remorse escape her control. "I've never thought I'd take a human life, but I'll do whatever it takes to protect the innocent. Are you going to help me or not?"

The man stared at her, but slowly nodded. "They're expecting the company with new children. Some of them will be awake to greet us."

The trapper smiled with grim determination and loosened the rusty sword at her hip. "Not for long."

ooOoo

It had been a long hard day, just like any other. Jenny's body was covered from head to toe in the dark soot from the coal mines and her leg still ached from when one of the thieves had thrown her against the ground. For the three loads of coal she had managed to bring up that day, the young girl was given a large spoonful of cold porridge and locked into the pen inside the caves that kept her and the others from escaping during the night.

One of the others, who had been there longer than she, was nearly skeletal from the miserable conditions. The thief that had brought him said that his end should come within a week. Then he'll be dumped into the same hole in the caves that they dumped their garbage and chamber pots into, along with all the other bodies.

Jenny bit back a sob. That was her destiny as well. All she and the other children were doing was delaying that day for as long as possible. She curled up on the dirty straw lining the cage and quietly cried herself to sleep.

But without warning, several loud screams from outside the cave woke her up hours later. Those screams… they weren't from new children.

One of the screams was more like the roar of a great beast.

"What's going on?" Jacob whimpered as he woke up as well.

"I don't know. It sounds like a fight with an animal!" Jenny answered, wondering if they were next on the menu.

One by one, all eight of the remaining children woke up, huddling against each other as the screams lessened, one at a time.

Finally, with a loud snap of bone and flesh it was over. The beast alone remained, groaning and panting heavily enough for them to hear.

Then words came. They were too soft to be heard from in here, no matter how hard Jenny tried to hear.

"What's happening?" Angie asked, but Jenny shushed her.

"I don't know, I can't hear!"

After what felt like eternity, the talking stopped and steady footsteps made their way into the cave.

Filled with renewed terror, they clung to each other, since something like this had never happened before.

The first one they saw was the man that had taken them there. The second…

He was unlike anything Jenny had ever seen before. By the light of the single torch he was holding, he almost seemed to be made of pale moonlight. There were cuts along his arms and face from the fight and sweat freely mingled with the blood that turned white as it oozed onto his skin. At his side was hanging a sword dripping with even more blood, though it stayed red.

His dark eyes turned to the pen and became shocked. "Is that all of them?" he demanded, running to the rickety wooden cage.

The skeletal one, Richie, began weeping in terror as the others withdrew from the pen's door.

"Yes, that's all of them. This is the only place Unmar kept the children."

The pale man gave him a glare. "You said there were fifteen. I count eight."

"There _were _fifteen when I left. I'm sorry, I have no control over what happens to them after they're brought here!" he protested, taking another step away from the man in the fur cloak.

He gave him another angry look, but tried to control it for the children. "Thank you for showing me the way and where the children are. If you promise never to engage in kidnapping again, I'll let you go."

"Oh, I won't. Not ever," he promised, stumbling over himself in order to run away. "Not after seeing what you can do."

"Good. Now get out and never come back; these children are **mine**."

The thin man didn't wait for more words than that. He ran out of the cave and out of Jenny's life forever.

"… What are you going to do with us?" she asked the pale man with a whisper.

The tall man looked at her and gave a strangely gentle smile. "First off, that pen is disgusting. I insist that all of you get out of it immediately." He grabbed the rickety door and ripped it completely off its cord hinges with one hand, since he was still carrying a torch. "Come along. I know someplace a lot nicer for all of you to sleep tonight."

Taking heart in the kind tone, Jenny grabbed Jacob's hand to help him out. In single file the children managed to crawl out, except for Richie. It was all he could do to sit up.

"Those _monsters_," the pale man snarled under his breath, handing Jenny the torch.

The little girl had to almost hold it against her chest with both arms in order to hold it upright.

"Be careful with that, I don't want you to burn yourself," the pale man warned worriedly. He then walked into the cage to take Richie into his arms and hold him close. "I should have been harsher with them."

"Did you kill all the thieves?" Angie asked with a tremble.

"All of them. Come along, little ones. It's a small distance to the other children, and I have fresh food."

"Food?" Richie rasped, clinging to his shoulder with a shaky hand as the man carried him out of the pen.

"That's right, and I'm a trapper. None of you are going to go hungry again for a while, if I have anything to say about it."

Little Jacob started crying with gratitude.

"Let's get going, and be careful with that torch," he reminded Jenny, gesturing with his head for the girl to walk beside him.

Still holding the torch, the little girl helped the strange man lead the way out of the cave, and deep into the woods; being careful to avoid the bodies littering everywhere. Their steps were swift enough to soon leave the caves behind him, but still slow enough that all the children could keep up.

As her cut and bruised feet became caressed by the soft grass, Jenny finally allowed herself to smile up at the pale man in the fur cloak.

'_Guardian angels __**do **__exist!'_


	7. Endowment

**Chapter Seven: Endowment**

_The only man we have any respect for, is he who uses all the endowment he has, and uses it until he bleeds._

_-Martin H. Fischer_

xxXxx

So it was, by a series of strange events, that the cursed northerner found herself the guardian of eighteen children. It was a bit of a shock to her system, since she had spent most of her life alone or with her father.

But there was no way in heaven or earth that she was going to leave a bunch of defenseless children to fend for themselves.

"I know it hurts, but that cut needs to be cleaned," the trapper said in as soothing a tone as she could manage without using her true voice.

The little boy bit back another sob of pain, but at least he stopped trying to wiggle his arm free from her grasp.

The pale woman made soft, reassuring sounds as she rubbed a bit more of her healing salve into the wounds of his wrists. The boy, Joey, had been one of the children that hadn't made it to the mines yet. As such, he was one of the last ones she treated, since the children from the mines had been in worse shape.

Her blood boiled at some of the wounds she had treated, but she made sure not to let any of the children see it. Some of them were still a bit scared of her and she didn't like scaring children.

"Um, mister?" one of the treated girls said hesitantly. "Is it… all right, if we go play?"

"Go ahead, but stay close to this area so I can find you, and be gentle with Richie."

"Richie's still sleeping," she reported, looking at the tarp that was now a makeshift blanket.

"That's good. Go have fun, Jenny, but call out if you need help."

"Yes, sir," Jenny replied with a grateful smile, running back to tell the others.

Personally, the trapper was a little surprised that they had energy to play at all, or perhaps they wanted some time alone.

'_I guess it doesn't really matter, as long as they stay out of trouble.' _"I've got a big job for you, Joey. Do you think you're strong enough for it?" she asked as she wrapped his wrists with rough burlap.

In order to have enough bandages for all the children, she had needed to cut up both of her large sacks for strips.

"I-I think so," Joey stammered, cuddling on her lap while fighting back another sniffle.

"You children ate all the food I had with me last night, but I think it's still a good distance from the next village."

"It took the men a week to get us here," he reported, keeping his eyes on his lap.

"That's good to know, but it doesn't change the fact that I have almost twenty mouths to feed. Half of those mouths are going to start being able to eat more now that they're getting more than a spoonful of porridge per day. Everyone, especially Richie, needs a few more days of rest before we start for your village. I need you to stay with Richie, help him drink and go to the bushes if he needs it. I need to hunt for our dinner, but I can only do that if you stay with Richie. Can you do that for me?"

The boy gave a nervous look at the almost skeletal form under the tarp, but nodded.

"Thank you. Now be good, and I'll be back soon." She gently ruffled his hair, and eased him off her lap. "It's even okay if you switch places with one of the other children at some point today, as long as someone's with him."

The little boy gave her a shy smile, wiped away the remaining tears, and hopped over to the campfire, where Richie was sleeping.

The pale trapper made sure her favorite knives were in their customary sheathes over her arms and legs, and took off running into the woods.

There was no time to set up traps, or to practice archery. The bread, cheese, and fruit from the capital had been just enough to stave off the worst of the children's appetite last night, but they needed some good fresh meat to help regain their strength.

Knowing she had several children counting on her had her mind set on more than a few rabbits, or even some foxes.

It took her over an hour to hunt down a deer. He was a large one, with an impressive set of antlers.

Her father said that some southerners paid a good price for antlers. She made a note not to damage them, and started hunting him.

She knew most other trappers depended on arrows and sometimes horses to take down a stag of that size. But then, most trappers didn't have the abilities that she did.

The stag knew she was onto him. He knew the terrain in this area, and was shameless about using it to his advantage. He ran as fast as he could, zigzagging at a rapid pace to avoid her, or at least throw her off his trail.

But she was used to such tricks and didn't waste time trying to shoot him. She was just as fast as he was, sometimes anticipating a move before he even made it.

It still took her over half an hour to run him down and break his neck.

He dropped to the ground while her arms were still around his neck.

She lay on top of her catch for a while, panting heavily. She took a moment to rest her face against the deer's soft fur, almost laughing in her weariness. "You put up a worthy fight, my long-limbed friend. Enjoy your final rest."

The young trapper knew it was odd to wish peace on her prey after killing them, but after what had happened with the polar bear, it only felt appropriate to her.

She considered a complete dressing, but didn't want to contaminate the meat. She settled for gutting the deer and dragging it by the horns back to the camp.

That took another three hours, since the stag had led her on a long chase.

By then, it was getting close to sunset and a few of the kids had been smart enough to keep the campfire going.

"Would a few of you mind gathering more sticks and such? We're going to need a bigger fire to cook all this meat," she called out, throwing the carcass to the ground to start skinning it.

"Okay," one of them called out, but she couldn't tell who with her back turned.

"But if you find any long straight sticks, don't burn them; we'll need to cook with those," she called over her shoulder.

"Um, Mister?" Jenny asked as she approached. "What are you?"

"A trapper, of course. Why do you ask?" she inquired, carefully separating the hide from the meat.

"Your clothes are always white, even when you're covered in blood."

She stopped cutting and stared at the carcass in front of her. Her gloves and front were wet from blood, but as the child had said, they were perfectly white in spite of the fact.

"Mister?" Jenny asked again.

The trapper gave a sigh and smiled at the girl. "When the fire's big enough, and everyone's roasting their dinner, I'll tell you what I am." _'I only wish I could tell you __**who**__ I am.' _"Is that agreeable, Jenny?"

She nodded, but looked at the camp fire. "That's not big enough for all of us to cook at the same time."

"Then we'll take turns. Now, please help the others find firewood, okay?"

She nodded and ran off with a few more of the girls.

The pale trapper looked down at her wet gloves again, raising them from the carcass. _'Is this my destiny? To be constantly covered with blood?'_

'_**You chose this fate,' **_a small voice reminded her, making the young woman bite back an angry snarl and slam her knife into the deer.

"Some choice it was, too."

ooOoo

Richie's mouth was open with horror. "You lost your mama anyway?"

The trapper nodded, keeping his frail hand on his stick, which had deer meat wrapped around it over the fire. "It took her a month to die, despite my father's attempts to save her." The pale woman bit her lip painfully, allowing herself to think for the first time in years of the woman she barely remembered. "She was beautiful."

"Did you have any friends, after you got cursed?" Jenny asked.

Her heart pounded painfully. "Just one. I don't know why, but not even damaging his shoulder was enough to make him hate me. Everyone else did, though."

"Even though you were only defending your mother?" Joey asked in horror.

"They didn't know about her. Papa decided that it was safer to pretend that I was just his ward. Most of the villagers thought that Ukima changed me from a polar bear into a human, and we never saw the point in correcting them."

"What's a ward?" Angie asked as she checked her meat stick.

"It's a bit like an adoption. Pretty much, an adult decides to care for a child that isn't part of the family."

"You mean like us?" Richie asked, cuddling deep into her bear cloak.

"… A little. Except I'm not keeping all of you; I'm taking you back where you belong." She smiled sadly, giving Richie a random hug. "My kind of life isn't good for children, and most of you probably have families that love you. Remember, two more days of resting up, and then I take you home."

"We're not all from the same village," Jenny told her quietly.

"Then I'll take you to however many villages I need to. After what you children have been through, you deserve that much."

"But what about you?" Joey asked while tugging on a corner of her cloak. "How are you going to find the cure, if you don't know where to look?"

She gave him a sad smile, although it was hard to keep it from looking girly. "By looking in as many places as possible. For all I know, I'll find it in one of your villages."

"What's your name?" Jenny asked suddenly. "I don't like calling you mister all the time."

'_It's Haru! I'm Haru!' _she longed to cry out. "I'm not permitted to reveal it until I'm cured. One girl I've met liked to call me Mr. Bear, if you think I need a name."

Angie pouted. "That name doesn't suit you at all."

"Then think of something on your own," the trapper teased, reaching over to ruffle her hair affectionately. "But please don't tell anyone about my past, okay? It's not anyone's business."

"Well, what _are _we supposed to say, when people ask about you?" another boy, Thomas, asked in confusion.

"The truth; that I'm a cursed trapper looking for a cure. Now finish cooking so that the others can have dinner. Tomorrow's agenda is baths, so we all need a good rest tonight."

ooOoo

_It was like she was in a trance. She knew what was going on, but was unable to control her own actions._

_She was fighting thieves, more thieves than she could lay her eyes on. They were all beating on her with clubs and knives, which only served to enrage her. With a terrible roar, she stood up and started knocking down five at a time with her great claws._

_Claws… she was a polar bear._

The trapper sat up intending to scream, but was just able to slam her _hand_ over her mouth. Her heart was beating out of control and a few tears managed to escape her control.

"_No_," she choked in horror. "Never. No, I'll never be a bear."

Or a monster. She only did what she did to save innocent lives. What did it matter that she was no longer an innocent?

"Who am I fooling anyway?" she groaned to herself, holding her gloved hands to her face. "I haven't been innocent since I was seven."

Ten years… had it really been that long since getting cursed? Why did it feel like centuries instead?

Without warning, one of the smaller children started crying terribly, from his place near the middle of the tarp blanket.

With a regretful heart, since her cloak was covering four children, the trapper got up in order to carefully step around the bodies over the soft grass to reach her goal. "Shh, Johnny, what's wrong?" she whispered as she gently eased him out of the tarp blanket for a hug.

"The men, the men," he gasped in horror as he shook. "They were beating me again! I can't carry that much coal!"

"Shh, shh," she whispered, sitting down to rock him in her arms. "The men are gone, Johnny. I'm right here, no one's going to hurt you again."

At that, the boy started sobbing loudly, surely loud enough to wake the other children before long.

'_Come on, Haru, __**think**__! What did Mama used to do when I was upset?' _Her eyes widened in horror. _'No, I can't do that! It's too feminine!'_

The small child kept weeping, clinging to the front of her shirt in terror. She kept rocking him in her arms, biting her lip as she fought with two strong desires. Comfort the child, or keep up with her façade. If she chose the latter, then more of the children were certain to wake up, and who knew how long it would take her to get them to go to sleep again?

There was no choice. If he asked in the morning, she'd just say he dreamed it.

She placed his head on her heart, kissed his face gently, and started singing softly. "_Come stop your crying, it'll be all right. Just take my hand, hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, don't you cry._"

It had been years since she had tried to sing, so of course her voice was rough and shaky as she soothed the child. But she was all too aware that if anyone heard her, they would know the truth about her gender.

"_For one so small, you seem so strong. My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here, don't you cry._"

The child was still crying, but the sobs had lessened considerably, and his breathing was starting to even out.

Taking heart in this, the trapper kept singing in a low tone, so she wouldn't wake up the other children. "_Cause you'll be in my heart. Yes, you'll be in my heart, from this day on; now and forevermore. You'll be in my heart, no matter what they say. You'll be here in my heart, always. __**Always**__._"

She repeated her childhood lullaby three more times before the little boy was sleeping again, although he still had a firm grip on her shirt. She grabbed a corner of her cloak to wrap the boy up in it as much as possible. "Sleep well, little one. I'll protect you," she promised in her true voice, looking at all of the children fondly. "Each and every one of you, until you're where you belong."

ooOoo

Evangeline felt like she was dead. Secretly, she wondered if it was the truth. After all, her husband was dead, her brother was dead…

Her two children…

She fought back another sob as she thought of them. Sally and Thomas had been her pride and joy, and now... now…

They were gone forever. No one ever saw a child again after the Soot Clan took one. But they didn't take just hers; they robbed the village of all the children they could get their hands on. She wasn't the only one in mourning.

If only the sheriff would _do _something about the Soot Clan! Nearly every village in the kingdom of Figlash had been targeted by them, but no officials were able to hunt them down.

Her hands started shaking against the rake she was using on her humble garden. "When is it going to be enough?" she whispered harshly. "When is our king going to do something about the Soot Clan? Do they have to storm the palace and steal all of _his _children before he sends his troops out?"

The vegetables she was talking to didn't offer a reply. They seldom did.

A loud cry was heard through the dusty village, making Evangeline look up in horror. Last time a cry like that was heard, it was to announce the arrival of the Soot Clan. Her mouth curled into an angry snarl and she kept a grip on the rake as she ran out of her garden and into the street.

Not this time. She wasn't going to let the Soot Clan take a single soul from here again!

"My baby!" Tina wailed as Evangeline turned a corner… and stopped dead in her tracks.

The rake in her hands fell to the ground in shock, unable to believe her own eyes.

There, at the front of the tavern… were the children. _Her _children, along with several adults claiming one child or another. Tina had been crying out over getting her daughter back!

Sally looked up at her and squealed with delight. "Mommy! Look, Thomas; Mommy!"

Her son laughed happily as the woman bit back a sob and ran forward to take her babies into her arms. They clung to her, crying harder than they had in a long time. For a long time, it was all Evangeline could do, to just hold her beloved children again.

Was she dreaming? It was almost too good to be a dream, and she was definitely feeling dizzy with happiness by now.

"Who are you, stranger?" she could hear the mayor ask nervously after a while, making the woman look up.

That was when she first noticed the pale man in the fur cloak; every inch of him as white as snow. There was a cluster of children around him, much skinnier and shabbier than the ones claimed by the village.

"This is Bearskin. He's the one who rescued us from the bad men," the frail boy in his arms rasped; the tone worshipful.

"What he said," the young man agreed as he gave a polite bow to the mayor. "If it's not too much trouble, sir, could you give me directions to Rilo, Stihan, or Jilish; whichever is closest? These children would also like to see their parents again." He gently touched the head of a little boy at his side, making the child cuddle against him happily.

"How did you do it?" Freddie asked in wonder, as he held his daughter close. "The Soot Clan never gives up a child, let alone several of them."

The pale man smiled grimly. "I didn't exactly give them a choice in the matter."

"He killed them 'till they were dead," Sally reported to her mother, although she was loud enough to be heard by all.

The strange man nodded sadly. "What she said. Don't expect anyone to steal your children again for a long time."

ooOoo

Well, after hearing that, there was no way on earth that the villagers were going to just let the pale trapper walk away without showing their appreciation. But none of them could spare much, since they were a poor village and had already lost a good number of workers during the Soot Clan raid.

However, they were able to provide a warm comfortable place for him and the remaining children to stay the night, as well as a small bag of food for the journey ahead.

"I'm sorry that this is all we can spare, Bearskin. We'd give you more if we could," the mayor said in an apologetic tone, as he shook the pale trapper's hand.

He shook his head with a small, guarded smile. "Considering the fact that I was expecting everyone to kick me out after getting their children back, I'm fine with just this. Be good to the little ones for me."

"Of course," he protested, even as the strange man's gaze turned away from him and to the children she had just returned to the village.

Little Otto was sniffling terribly, as he held his arms out for one last hug.

Bearskin smiled a little more warmly for the boy and wrapped his arms around the boy before ruffling his hair. "Remember to be good?"

"Okay!" the boy said while giving him a brave smile.

The villagers watched soundlessly as the pale man collected hugs from the children remaining in the village and gave them a warm bow unlike any they had seen before.

"Be good, and don't take anything for granted," he said warmly as he swept a frail boy into his arms, one that had barely been able to stand.

"Thank you for saving us and taking us home," Sally said with a loving smile, still holding her brother's hand.

"My pleasure. Well, let's get going, children. It's a long way to Stihan and we don't want to keep anyone waiting."

"We won't forget you!" Joey called out as the pale trapper walked down the dusty road with eight children, less than half of how many he had arrived with.

Evangeline's heart broke, as she thought of how many villages would be awaiting his arrival, after word was spread of the Soot Clan's defeat, hoping that their children would be counted among the returned ones.

"That man didn't have to take the children home himself," she murmured thoughtfully. _'In fact, it would have been easier to turn them over to the police and let them worry about getting them home.'_

"His name's Bearskin, Mommy," Sally scolded, doing her best to look grown up, as usual. "He's the nicest man alive and doesn't want us to get hurt again."

"You're not with him anymore, dear heart," Evangeline reminded her older child with a warm smile, sneaking another hug as they walked back home to start the day's chores.

"He still doesn't want anyone to get hurt." Her little face scrunched up in disgust. "Unless they deserve it, that is."

"Mr. Bearskin's an angel," Thomas piped up happily. "That's why he saved us."

"Darling, the man, I mean Bearskin," Evangeline corrected herself as Sally made to protest again. "He's a good man, but he's not an angel."

"He wears white like an angel," the boy pointed out. "He's really nice and likes children-"

"Thomas… those things don't make a person an angel," Evangeline sighed as she picked up her rake again.

Her boy smiled shyly. "He sings pretty, too."

Evangeline stopped moving and gave him an incredulous look. "He _sings_?"

That didn't seem like a talent a trapper would possess, let alone a cursed one.

Sally nodded mournfully as she picked up two buckets to go fetch water. "Too bad he only does it when he thinks we're asleep."

ooOoo

The pale trapper had no idea just how quickly gossip could fly until she started returning children to their rightful homes. Although the three villages were spread far and wide over the kingdom of Figlash, every village she traded in had already heard of what she had done to the so-called Soot Clan and hoped that some of the children she cared for were their own.

It hurt, to have to constantly turn away hopeful parents or relatives after none of the children recognized them. It hurt to constantly crush their dreams of seeing loved ones again, even as she offered the comfort of knowing the ones responsible would never haunt them again.

It took her over three months to get each child to their home village, and to a loving relative or adopted home. By then, her new identity was well established in the kingdom, and, as she would later find, in the ones surrounding it. After more than ten years without a steady name to call her own, she was now known on sight by complete strangers.

She was Bearskin.

'_At least it's better than Mr. Bear.'_

xxXxx

A/N; the song Haru used to calm the child was 'You'll Be in My Heart' from the Disney movie Tarzan. It was sung by both Glenn Close and Phil Collins, and seriously makes a perfect lullaby.


	8. All You Possess

**Chapter Eight: All You Possess**

_Your soul is all you possess. Take it in hand and make something of it!_

_-Martin H. Fischer_

xxXxx

Bettina's heart was pounding like thunder as she lightly stepped down the forest path. She brushed a single lock of black hair around her cheek, trying everything in her power to remain calm. _'Why did I volunteer for this? Why didn't I let anyone talk me out of it?'_

For the others, that's why. She had lost her cousin to the monster and had watched others disappear forever after a single moment of carelessness. If the plan worked, no one would disappear again. If it failed… well, she hoped that the villagers would speak more of her bravery than of her stupidity.

The sun was beginning to set, sending the forest into a world of repeated shadows. A cool autumn breeze flew by, making her simple red cloak billow and wave like a flag. Bettina shivered from the chill and pulled the hood over her head. _'__**Please **__let the plan work! I don't even know what it is, but let it-'_

A huge black wolf suddenly lunged from behind a bush, barely giving her enough time to see it before great paws slammed against her chest.

Bettina was forced to the ground, emitting a scream as the wolf made to bite her entire neck.

A single flash of white was all she saw before the wolf was suddenly slammed from the side, forcing it to roll violently away. A long, perfectly white cloak came into her vision, making the girl look up at her rescuer.

_Bearskin_.

The cursed trapper emitted a roar to rival the wolf's and actually _pounced _on him! Bettina sat up with shock, unable to look away as the man began wrestling with the rabid monster.

Savage snarls came from the beast's muzzle as he kept trying to bite Bearskin, but the trapper had too much experience to let him take more than one bite from his shoulder.

But Bearskin didn't scream. It was well-known that although his roar was fearsome, he never screamed or cried. Instead, he broke both of the front legs on the wolf and finished with his neck.

The terrible beast fell to the ground, never to rise again. But the pale man didn't rise either, choosing instead to hold his head between his hands in agony for several minutes.

"B-Bearskin?" Bettina stuttered, rising to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"… I'll be fine, don't worry about me," he groaned after another moment, stumbling to his feet. Then he looked at her with his warm black eyes. "Did he hurt you at all?"

Bettina rubbed the back of her head a little. "Besides a bit of bruising, I'm fine." Then she started laughing nervously. "For a second, I thought you weren't going to be able to save me."

Bearskin gave her a surprisingly gentle smile and grabbed both of the wolf's back legs. "That's all right. We only met this morning, after all. Now let's head back, your mother's probably worried sick by now."

"Probably," the twelve- year old agreed, walking alongside the cursed trapper as he dragged the huge beast behind him. Then she got a good look at the bitten shoulder, which had a few red marks that were trying to grow bigger. "You're bleeding!"

"I'd be surprised if I wasn't. That wolf's teeth were pretty sharp," Bearskin answered, still wincing a bit.

Bettina couldn't think of anything to say to that. Instead, it was all she could do, to watch the man's shoulder.

The cloth was slightly torn, providing a modest glance at the cuts as they bled onto his perfectly white clothing. The curse was fighting back against the redness as it tried to stain the simple shirt, but the only reason it was such a struggle was because of how much blood was oozing out of the bite wounds. The young girl was a little surprised that his blood wasn't already white.

"I'm sorry that you got hurt over me," Bettina said softly, feeling guilty about it. Whether or not the man showed it, he had to be in pain.

"Don't worry, it happens all the time." The pale trapper gave a very ironic smile, although it was a bit stiff. "One of these days, I'll figure out it's a bad idea to gamble with Death. He's going to start using weighted dice if I keep this up."

"You gamble with _Death_?" Bettina gasped in horror.

"Relax, that was just a metaphor. I'm pretty sure the likes of Death would be too busy to play dice with a cursed trapper, anyway. Oh look, there's the gate-"

"_Bettina_!" her mother wailed as she ran through the crowd of people near the gate and threw herself at her daughter. "You're not hurt, are you sweetie?" she asked while frantically checking for signs of injury.

"Mother!" the young girl cried out in mortification, trying to ease the woman's impressive grip on her shoulders.

"Don't scold her. The last hour's been really tough on her," Bearskin said gently as he threw his catch at the feet of the villagers.

"Now see here, I can scold my daughter if it pleases me!"

Bearskin looked at the woman in surprise, but shook his head. "I was speaking to Bettina, madam."

Both mother and child stared at him in surprise.

"Your daughter's quite brave, and so were you, for letting her go with me. You'll be very proud, once you're done being scared and angry at her. Mayor Drechsler, I have checked over the forest. This is the only wolf for miles, so it's the only one responsible for the deaths you mentioned."

"Thank heaven! And thank you, Bearskin," the portly man gushed as he shook the trapper's hand enthusiastically. "I now wish we had contacted you sooner."

"So do I. Bettina is unharmed, as I promised," he replied, gesturing with a gloved hand at the girl in the red cloak.

"Then here is what I promised," the mayor answered, pressing a small bag into the pale man's hands. "I wish it was more, though."

"The agreed amount is fine. I don't do this kind of work for the payment. Well, I'd best be on my way-"

"Nonsense! I have an excellent healer and that shoulder needs to be looked at."

The trapper shook his head, holding one hand to the shoulder in question. "I don't know what my blood will do to ordinary people and I'd rather not find out. Be well everyone, Bettina." She gave a short, strange bow to the young girl and took off running before anyone could stop him.

"Bearskin!" Bettina called out, but that was the last time she ever saw the legendary trapper.

ooOoo

The cursed woman was breathing heavy with pain, by the time she reached the cave she found while out scouting earlier that day. For all she knew, the cave had belonged to the wolf she had just killed.

She stumbled into the small opening, feeling strangely at home as she sat on the soft earth and dumped her latest earnings into the satchel. "That went fairly well," she groaned, stiffly unbuckling the satchel to set it aside. Then her shaking hands began working on the buttons of her shirt, so that she could work on her latest injury. It was difficult to ease the shirt off with her bad shoulder, but she managed it in the end.

At least the tightly wound bandages across her chest were undisturbed. She was quite lucky that her figure more or less resembled a stick but she lived in the fear that the bandages would one day be torn and her secret revealed.

Folding the cloak back so that it wouldn't rest on the bite marks, Bearskin fished around the satchel for a bottle of healing ointment. She went through the stuff at an alarming rate, second only to food. Biting back gasps of pain, she cleaned her wound with the stuff, and then wrapped a spare bandage with difficulty over the shoulder. It was a bit of an awkward angle to wrap the bandages, but experience had taught her a good way to tie the cloth over her sensitive skin.

'_Telling people that my blood could carry trouble was a stroke of genius. There's no way in heck I'd be able to keep up this charade if I let other people doctor me.' _

Her heart broke a little. These days, she often did favors for common people and nobility alike, and yet she couldn't so much as let them heal her, or touch her bare skin. A varying sized bag of gold was usually all she walked away with, unless the people were so humble that she could only ask for a place to sleep for a night or two. She didn't care about the reward, and had long lost track of just how much gold was inside her satchel. One thing was certain; when she found the place that could cure her, it was possible that she would never have to work another day in her life again.

'_Two years. Has it really been that long since I left home?' _she thought wistfully as she pulled on a fresh shirt and started buttoning it on with one hand. _'It feels like a century since I've seen Papa. I wonder how he's doing. How is Machida doing?' _Her heart thumped painfully, just at thinking his name.

"He's probably a husband and father by now. Let him go," she snarled at herself, wishing that it would work for once. "Papa's probably fine too, he's a survivor. He doesn't need me to babysit him."

So why couldn't she stop worrying about him?

She sighed and pulled out a needle and thread to start repairing her blood-covered shirt. Only to discover that it was now too dark and she needed to find firewood. "Naturally," she sighed, stuffing everything into her satchel before forcing herself to crawl out of the cave again.

On the bright side, she didn't need a lot of firewood. Her cloak was more than enough to keep her warm.

ooOoo

Another town. Another job. Another bag of gold… and another tavern wench that couldn't take a hint.

"If you don't mind, madam, I prefer to dine alone," she growled between her teeth before taking a savage bite out of her bread.

"It's hardly possible to dine alone while in a tavern, good Bearskin," the busty woman crooned as she rubbed one of the trapper's arms, taking care to show off her long autumn-colored hair.

"It is if no one else is at the same table," she replied stiffly after swallowing, forcefully taking the woman's hands and turning them away. "I suggest you look after the other customers, before this one grows irritated enough to leave."

The young woman made an indignant sound, but at least she stormed off. The pale trapper sighed with relief and turned her attention back to her pasta. It was only her third time eating it, but was quickly growing addicted to the stuff. Too bad she knew for a fact that she'd never be able to make it herself.

The door to the tavern burst open, but Bearskin didn't look up. There were too many other weary travelers bursting in for her to bother with anymore. The pasta was far more interesting right now.

"Is Bearskin still here? Oh, thank heaven," a voice said with relief as steady footsteps made for the corner of the tavern she was sitting at.

The pale trapper suppressed a groan and looked up disinterestedly.

A portly man with graying hair was staring at her in shock and a large bag was tucked under one arm.

"Is something wrong?" she growled after swallowing her mouthful of pasta.

The man snapped to attention. "What, oh no! I… just assumed that you would be older, that's all."

"I get that a lot. Do you need help?" she asked while gesturing to the seat across from her.

"Y-Yes," the man said nervously, taking the offered seat. He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "It's true that whatever you put on turns white as snow?"

"It would be an awful lot of trouble to dress this way on purpose. What would it matter to you?"

"A lot, actually." The man sighed and set his bundle on the table. "You see, my daughter's getting married in a month and she's my only child. The seamstress that was working on her dress had her shop burned down last week, as well as all the fabric she had. I've tried searching for more white satin, believe me, but since Princess Arabella is getting married in two weeks, there's none to be had for miles around. Even if the seamstress found some right after the wedding, two weeks would never be enough time to make a worthy wedding dress."

Feeling a bit curious, Bearskin took the offered bundle and unwrapped it. Inside was a great deal of blood red satin. "… You're not suggesting what I think you are, are you? I was led to believe that brides could wear any color they wish."

"They can, but my daughter's been dreaming of a white gown since she was a little girl. Please, I'm offering ten gold pieces if you'll do it and it would mean the world to my Celestina. You're my last hope, Bearskin."

The young woman looked at the red satin wordlessly. This would probably be the closest she would ever come to wearing a wedding dress, or even having anything to do with weddings. Even with the people accepting her, no priest was ever willing to let her witness a religious ceremony.

Bearskin didn't actually say whether or not she'd do it. Instead, she set aside her plate of pasta and took off her gloves so that she could unbutton one of her sleeves. Once one scarred arm was exposed, she unfolded enough of the satin to wrap it firmly around her pale flesh, like one of the mummies she had read about.

Her curse flooded onto the silky cloth, draining it of all color from the end closest to her to flood out through the rest of the stuff. But the farther the cloth was from her body, the slower her curse took hold of the cloth. The faux albino merely unwrapped the end her arm was in, and repeated the gesture near the center of the fabric, and then again from the far end.

Within minutes, the several yards of satin were every bit as white as she was.

"Oh, this is _wonderful_," the portly man crooned as he attempted to fold the cloth back into a small bundle. "It's even whiter than the first dress was going to be."

"It might be a good idea to keep quiet that I helped you," she informed him gruffly, taking the satin from him to fold it neatly. "The one presiding over the wedding might have problems with the bride wearing a curse's byproduct."

"I won't tell a soul, at least until after the wedding. _Thank you_, Bearskin. For being cursed, you are a true godsend." The man gave her another grateful bow after wrapping the cloth into its original packaging and handed her the promised money before leaving the tavern.

It was only then that the trapper realized that everyone in the tavern had been staring at her soundlessly, possibly since she started 'dyeing' the satin. It was possible that word would be spread throughout the city, even before the dress was done. Even the tavern wench that had been attempting to flirt with her looked stunned.

The pale woman rolled down her sleeve, put her gloves back on, and returned to her pasta. _'How is it fair that everyone benefits from my curse but me?'_

ooOoo

Bearskin was well-aware that she didn't fit in with the other trappers. Even if it weren't for the fact that she was cursed and really a girl, she was thought an oddity for not growing a beard. Most other trappers spent weeks, or sometimes months without seeing another soul, so why bother with regular shaving?

She never lost an opportunity to speak of how facial hair drove her crazy, but that wasn't the only reason they thought she was strange.

There was her obsession with bathing.

Dressed in only a pair of thin pants and a short-sleeved tunic under the ever-present cloak, she washed one of her shirts by a small pool, deep in the forest, where she was unlikely to be intruded on. Even the bandages that held her chest in a manly shape were off and drying over tree branches along with her large collection of bandages. She had long learned that she could never have too many bandages, even if it took forever to wash all of them.

'_It's amazing that no one ever notices how filthy I truly am,' _she thought miserably as dried white blood began to work free from her shirt and filter through the water like freshly poured milk. A surprising amount of dirt was also coming loose, although it appeared to be white sand as it came loose to litter across the bottom of the pool like specks of silver.

"Sometimes I wonder if I do this so often, just to avoid people," she noted numbly, as she searched for an unoccupied branch to throw her shirt over.

A crow answered her before preening one wing.

She jumped a bit, since she hadn't noticed it sitting on a rock before. "Well, look at it from my point of view," the young woman explained while hanging up her shirt. "Even if I've been lying my entire life, or at least most of it, I hate doing it to people that trust me. Isn't it strange that they're willing to trust a complete stranger, sometimes even with their lives?"

The crow cawed, turning in its place to hunt for bugs.

"Well, _I_ think it's strange," Bearskin confided as she started washing a pair of pants against a large stone. "They welcome me with open arms wherever I go now, sometimes with their hearts, but… now they're always expecting things from me. Did I destroy my own chances of getting cured by being a helpmate wherever I go?"

The crow suddenly decided to fly at her, cawing angrily.

She quickly held her arms over her head to protect against the sharp claws. "Ow, ouch! All right, all right; it was a stupid thought!"

The apology seemed to be enough for the crow, because it flew back to the stone, and resumed preening its wing.

"Ouch, _somebody's _opinionated," the trapper said between her teeth as she eased her bleeding arms to the water and resumed washing her pants from underneath the cool pool. "Was it really necessary to do that?" she asked while bending over awkwardly to continue her chore.

The next caw seemed rather smug.

"Yeah, well, you better be grateful I'm still bad with a bow and arrow," she snapped at the bird. "I've got a nice collection of scars without you adding to it!"

Too bad her collection was far from finished.

ooOoo

As often as Bearskin was the center of attention, it was no surprise that her favorite deeds were the ones no one knew she was responsible for.

Her heart pounded with excitement, as she studied a poor hovel for days. The family that lived in it was destitute, hardly able to even keep the shabby hut over their heads. The children were frail and sickly, hardly ever getting enough to eat, let alone have decent clothing on their backs.

It had taken her a week to sew up some sturdy moccasins for the two children and old woman, using only her finest handiwork for the task. The grandmother hadn't had money for shoes for what looked like a long time. She placed them into a large bag, along with packages of salted pork and fresh fruit, even adding a modest bag of gold into the sack, to help pay for the taxes and maybe even a goat for fresh milk. She'd have happily given them a goat herself, but didn't count on the animal being able to keep quiet and calm around her. She added a few thick woolen blankets instead, since winter was due to approach in a few more months.

On a moonless night, long after midnight, Bearskin stalked close to the little hut, taking more care than ever not to make a sound. The ground was littered with falling leaves and sticks, making the task more difficult than similar tasks had been during the summer and spring.

Once the large bag of gifts was resting against their shoddy door, she took out a length of rope and began the second half of her task. Being as silent as she could, she began fixing up the fencing around the house, so that if they did get a goat, it wouldn't be able to break free during the night. She had been tempted to use nails to hold the small logs together, but hadn't managed to buy any long enough in the last village. That was another part of her scheme to ensure that no one would know what she was up to; if she bought things at a trade store that showed up at some poor hovel in the same area, she would be found out pretty quickly.

This was something that she didn't want to become part of her public image. It was too special for her to allow people to know about.

By the time she was finished building the fence to be as sturdy as a rock, the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. She tucked the remaining rope into her satchel and gave a polite bow to the hovel. "May good fortune fall to you," she whispered before disappearing into the woods; always careful to not make a sound.

ooOoo

Bearskin circled around the large tree stump, inspecting it from every angle. "I can see you've already tried to move it."

"Repeatedly, with horses I borrowed from my neighbor. They only managed to move it about an inch. Do you think you could remove it?" the farmer asked anxiously.

She gave the man a guarded smile and sat down to prop her legs against the trunk. "Only one way to find out, sir. Erg!" She strained against the trunk, repeatedly kicking at the thick wood to make it move.

Even with her strength, it was tough. After ten minutes, all she was able to manage were a few inches, but the roots were deep and strong.

"O-Okay," she panted as she stopped trying to tear the trunk right out of the ground. "This job's going to need some strategy. Do you have an axe handy?"

"It's right here," the farmer said as he unhooked it from his belt. "But the trunk's a little low for swinging, isn't it?"

Bearskin grinned at the man, and held it like an executioner over her head. "It all depends on the angle, sir." Without another word, she slammed the axe into the trunk, making the grain split terribly.

The farmer gaped as she repeated the cut all the way through the center of the trunk, and then used her gloved hands to make the wood split in two separate pieces. She grunted and heaved, but it was still another hour before she worked both parts out of the ground, one at a time.

"Holy buckets, I didn't think it was going to come out!" the trapper said triumphantly as she tore remaining roots from the fresh earth. "No wonder you asked for help."

The farmer laughed as he helped her load the trunk wood into a waiting cart. "I'm surprised you agreed to help, personally. I thought for sure you would be busy rescuing a princess or saving a village from raiders."

"Not this week, no. But who knows what will happen next week?" the trapper laughed back, although she wasn't entirely certain that she was joking.

"Again, thank you for helping with that stubborn trunk. It will be a relief not to have to dodge it while using the plow anymore."

"No problem. Look, you even get some firewood out of the deal. Would you like me to go ahead and split it, as long as I'm here?"

He shook his head and gestured for her to follow him to his house. "I'll have one of my boys do it. Now, for payment, we've got a surplus of potatoes and carrots this year. I don't know if it's suitable, but-"

"It's fine. I'll take fresh food over gold any day. For some reason, gold doesn't taste very good."

The farmer laughed at that, actually slapping one knee. "You know, we've heard a lot of stories about you, Bearskin. But not a one of them said you were funny."

She shrugged indifferently as they entered his home. "I'm not always in a mood to crack jokes, sir. Plus it's a little unprofessional to make my opponents die laughing."

"Who's with you, honey?" a warm voice called from an entryway.

"Oh, just Bearskin, dear," the farmer said nonchalantly, although there was a wide grin on his face.

There were a few gasps heard, as well as a young boy running through a doorway to stare at the pale trapper. "Wow, it really _is _Bearskin!"

"Be nice, Hendrick," the father scolded as he led the young woman into the kitchen. "Can we spare a loaf of your best bread, dear? Bearskin was kind enough to help me with that old trunk we've been trying to get rid of."

His wife, a plump motherly sort of woman, didn't answer her husband. Instead, her fingers were frozen in the air; a comb in one hand and a simple pair of scissors in the other. A small boy was sitting in front of her, but his hair was still long and unruly.

Bearskin gave a polite bow to the woman. "Madam," she said respectfully, now that she was used to being stared at. She still didn't like it, but at least she was used to it by now.

"… Your _hair_!" the woman finally managed to say, still staring at the young trapper.

"Yes, dear; it's white. Every inch of him is supposed to be white, remember?" her husband said as he sifted through a large barrel of potatoes for the best ones.

"No, not that. It's just so _shabby_!" the woman declared, shooing her young son off of the chair.

Her husband wheeled around with shock. "Shabby?" he gasped fearfully, as if the trapper would lose her temper at such a remark.

Bearskin's eyes widened in disbelief. That was a word no one had ever used for her before, at least in her presence. "I cut it only two weeks ago," she defended, still surprised at the woman's daring.

"Not very well, I see. You look like you cut your hair with a _knife_," the woman scolded as she made the trapper sit on the simple chair.

"That's how I usually do it, yes. Are you seriously going to cut it?"

"You better believe I am! What if you have to go rescue some princess and your hair's a mess?" the woman asked as she started combing through snow-like hair. "That just wouldn't do at all!"

The young trapper was about to answer her, but the comb stopped her. She sat perfectly still as the simple wooden comb went through her hair, again and again as scissors began snipping at the strands.

She knew it was completely unreasonable, but… it reminded her of when Mama was alive. How many years had it been, since someone else combed her hair? It was so _relaxing_, that it was difficult to think of why she hadn't thought of missing it.

"… There! Now that's a proper haircut," the woman said after a while, setting down her scissors for a hand mirror. "What do you think of that, Bearskin?"

She took the mirror and looked at her reflection for the first time in over a year.

The scar she had gotten from a wife killer six months before had faded to a slim white line along her jawbone, and her eyes seemed… older, than they should have. The sadness, she could believe, but that much age in her eyes was something that usually war veterans had.

Too bad she wasn't a veteran yet. "I really like it," she told the farmer's wife as she touched the shortened locks. "It's much neater than it's been in years." _'Since Papa first cut my hair.'_

"I'm glad you do, Bearskin," the woman said, folding the trapper's clipped hair neatly into a fresh handkerchief. "Now no lord or the like will be thinking bad thoughts about your hair."

"There's no guarantee that I'll be working for a lord soon," she had to keep from laughing as she bowed to the woman. "It's all right if the bag's only half-full, sir. I'm very pleased with the haircut."

The man nodded numbly and added a few apples into the bag before handing it over. "Thank you again, Bearskin. I hope you find your cure soon."

She gave him a melancholy smile and bowed her way out of his home. "So do I."

ooOoo

The village looked the same as several that had come before it. There were no more cold stares, but rather ones of shock and wonder.

Bearskin nodded politely at every person she passed, a slightly stiff smile on her lips as she shouldered one bag full of game and hides. The only ones she avoided these days were men in robes. They were usually priests of one type or another and no priest ever approved of her.

Frankly, she found all the shrill denunciations a little tiresome and was more than happy to avoid confrontations.

"Excuse me," she called out to an older boy, one struggling with a pail of water. "Would you know where the trading post is?"

"Sure," the boy said with a grin, point down the road. "Go right where you see that grey horse there and it's the second building on the left."

"Thank you," she replied gratefully, giving him a bow before continuing on her way. _'It feels nice, not to have people avoid me anymore. If only one of these villages would just accept me and end this stupid charade!' _

She sighed sadly from the thought and let herself into the latest trading post.

The man behind the counter was sleeping, resting his head on his arms as a snore was heard.

Bearskin bit back a laugh, set her bag on the counter and gently shook one of his shoulders. "Sir? There's a customer here."

Nope. He was still sleeping. She shook a little harder.

Like she had stuck a pin in him, the old man leaped off his chair with a surprised shout.

The trapper jumped back a bit, but managed a nervous smile as the man calmed down. "Wow, that's the first time in two years I got _that _reaction."

The man behind the counter laughed nervously, as he looked at her. "Sorry about that, Bearskin. Haven't been sleeping well lately and…"

The pale woman waved a gloved hand dismissively. "It happens, don't worry about it. Has business been well?" she asked politely, keeping her voice gruff as usual.

"Quite well, actually. I have a letter here for you," the man informed her, kneeling underneath the counter to start sifting through boxes.

The trapper blinked in surprise. "A letter? How could anyone know I'd drop by here?"

"Oh, every trading post and general store for miles around has a letter like this waiting for you. The Baron is quite eager for a word with you."

She cocked a perfectly white eyebrow. "Which baron?" _'Please don't say of Ghule; he was __**disgusting**__!'_

"The Baron of Piaal, of course. He loves hearing of your exploits and didn't want to take chances if you came through here. Ah, here it is!" the old man said triumphantly as he held up an envelope with a wax seal. "Do you need me to read it to you?" he asked, making to break the seal.

"Thanks, but I read just fine," she answered while holding her hand out for it.

He stared at her a bit in shock, but then handed the letter over.

Bearskin set her bag on the counter and tucked the letter into a pant pocket. "I'll read it later."

"The messenger that delivered it asked me to tell you, if you didn't read it immediately, that the baron has paid for the finest room in the Dragon's Breath Inn for you."

She stared at him in shock. "He did _what_?"

"Every inn between here and the Baron's manor has already received payment for their best room and board for you. He's been looking forward to the chance to meet you for at least the past two years."

"… _Why_? Does he have a problem I can help with?"

"I don't know. I was only told to pass on the message and the letter."

She looked down at the letter, biting her lip. "Would… you mind waiting a bit, before we get down to business?" she asked while pulling the letter out of her pocket.

"Not at all, Bearskin. Take as long as you need," the man encouraged as he kneeled down to start shifting boxes around again.

Before breaking the seal, the trapper studied it carefully. Compared to some of the seals she had seen before, this one was rather simple. Just a fancy 'G' with some mint leaves encircling it. At least, she was fairly certain they were mint leaves; for being a simple seal, the details were extraordinary.

Shrugging a bit, she broke the seal and opened the fine stationary to start reading.


	9. Inner Guidance

**Chapter Nine: Inner Guidance**

_Every time you don't follow your inner guidance, you feel a loss of energy, loss of power, a sense of spiritual deadness._

_-Shakti Gawain_

xxXxx

_Dear Bearskin,_

_I am hoping that at least one of the letters I have written reaches you. If this is the one, then may I first express gratitude that you have chosen to read it? I understand you are usually quite busy and it's possible that you don't have time to bother with correspondence from a stranger. _

_Contrary to what you are probably thinking at this point, I am not in need of your services. To be honest, I almost wish I did need your help, so that I would have a valid reason to go through all this trouble. You see, I have been keeping track of your deeds over the past three years and I can't help but notice that - despite the talk I have heard from many sources - there are many gross inaccuracies between them and I would prefer to have my facts straight._

_I know this seems like a shallow reason to go to such lengths to make your acquaintance, but ever since learning of you, I can't shake the feeling that I must meet you in person. I don't know why I've had this feeling for so long, but I have learned not to ignore such impulses._

_I also have the understanding that you are searching for a cure for your unique condition. While I do not claim to be an expert on curses, I would like very much to help you find a cure. I am good friends with a magician of certain talent and he may have some ideas on how to help you. I sincerely hope you will consider stopping by the manor, even if it's to say you don't need my help. I have ensured that every inn between here and my manor has already been paid for their best room and board for you; all you have to do is appear and they will take care of the rest._

_All the best,_

_Baron Humbert von Gikkingen_

ooOoo

This was unheard of. Someone was reaching out to her… without actually needing her? Even the part about wanting his facts straight felt like an excuse; he just wanted to meet her.

Bearskin couldn't take her mind off it, even as she walked down the street and let herself into the first inn she saw. The horses outside it made a ruckus at her approach as usual, but she was too distracted to worry about them for now.

"Oh, Bearskin!" one portly man exclaimed with a wide smile, struggling to get out from behind a counter after she came in. "We were hoping to see you soon!"

"So I read. … Just out of curiosity, have you ever met the Baron of Piaal?" she couldn't help but ask gruffly. For all she knew, it was an elaborate trap from an enemy.

No one did as many errands as she without gaining some enemies.

"No, not me. One of my second cousins works for him, though. Says he's never had a better employer. May I show you to your room?" the man asked with a respectful bow. "It will still be about two hours until supper and I'm certain you would like to rest a bit."

"That _does _sound nice," Bearskin admitted as she followed the man down a hallway and up a set of stairs. But it was hard to pay attention, as the innkeeper gave her instructions to get to the main hall and the bath house, should she need it.

The trapper doubted it. Even if she went during the middle of the night, there was no guarantee that she'd be alone long enough to keep her secret.

"… I think you'll be particularly pleased with the bed. All the ones we have were shipped directly from the capital only last month, and no customer's been able to keep awake on one."

"Sounds wonderful, sir. Thank you," she replied in a gruff voice as he opened a door at the end of a long hallway. She peeked in experimentally, but stiffened a bit.

"Is something wrong, Bearskin?" the man asked worriedly.

"… Animals don't like me, sir."

He looked in as well and flinched a bit. "Blast that cat! Sorry, Bearskin, but my daughter's pet loves the new beds as much as the customers do. Hey, Fluffy," the man said as he stepped into the room and marched to the bed to pick up the cat. "You're not a customer, remember? Why can't you ever nap on Sarah's bed, like a good cat? She's got the same kind of bed, remember?"

The pale woman couldn't help but look at the feline longingly. She remembered her childhood wish to hear a purr, but still had yet to hear it. What was a cat's fur like?

The overly fluffy creature opened its eyes and stared at her. What issued from the cat's mouth could only be called a scream as it hopped out of the innkeeper's arms to pin itself against the farthest corner of the room. Every hair of the cat was standing on end as it spit fearfully.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" the man demanded, but the trapper already knew what to do.

She also came into the room and started slowly side-stepping her way across one wall to keep as much distance between her and the nervous animal. As soon as the trapper was a good distance from the door, the little cat shot through it like an arrow.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about Fluffy coming anywhere close to this room until after I leave," Bearskin informed the innkeeper with a sad smile. "Or even go up the stairs. Animals like to keep their distance from me."

"… I can see that," he managed to say after several minutes. "But if they hate you so, how do you trap them?"

"By being tricky or fast, usually. It helps that I don't need to hunt as much as I used to," the cursed woman admitted with reluctance.

Some of her errands were less pleasant than others, but having to do less trapping was definitely a benefit in her eyes.

"Ah. I'll… let you rest, then," the man said as he bowed his way out of the room. "I hope you'll enjoy this room as much as Fluffy did."

"I'm certain I will. Thank you," Bearskin said as he closed the door.

At last. _Alone_.

She sighed happily and threw herself on the bed. He was right, it _was_ comfy. Just… not comfy enough to distract her from the baron's strange letter. She pulled it out to read the beautiful calligraphy again and again. She could almost **feel **how hard it was for the baron to write it, and try to find the right words.

This offer had been unlike any she had ever received before. It… if she was reading it right… it was an offer of friendship. Unconditional _friendship_. Was it possible, after over three years of wandering the Southern Kingdoms… her cure was calling out to her?

Her heart pounded hopefully. It had been a long and lonely time since leaving her father. Occasionally, she would get companionship by being a bodyguard for a caravan or traveling nobleman, but even then, most people were careful to keep their distance from her unless they wanted to be annoying in one fashion or another.

What made the baron different than all the other people she had met over the years?

She set his letter on the pillow and lay her head next to it thoughtfully. "Why does he have the feeling we need to meet?" she whispered in her true voice. _'Is he the one that can help me become Haru again?'_

She had to go. She _needed_ to meet this Baron von Gikkingen and soon. Even if he didn't have her cure… well, who could tell what the future holds?

The cursed woman pulled out her latest map and unfolded it to start hunting for the Piaal baronetcy.

Only a week's journey away from where she was. Well, one thing was for sure; thanks to the Baron von Gikkingen, she was going to have a few nights to quietly rest, or read one of the books she occasionally let herself buy. She hardly ever had time to read, let alone by the light of such a large fireplace.

ooOoo

"What do you know of the Baron of Piaal?"

It was a question she asked at each village she stopped at. She didn't ask it of just innkeepers or their hired help; she would occasionally ask ordinary people working in a mill or someone working in their garden. The kind of people that no one would think to bribe.

"The baron, eh? Well, I've never had anything to complain about with him," one old man drawled as the pale trapper took over cutting firewood. "I mean, he's the higher crust and all, but that don't stop him from rubbing elbows with us common folk."

"Have you ever spoken to him?" Bearskin asked before slicing another log and adding it to the growing pile.

"Nay, but my boy works for him. After I hurt my leg a year ago, the baron sent his own doctor to take a look at me. I'll take that grump over Hazel any day."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What does your boy do for him?"

"He's a gardener and a good one too. When he came by after the doctor left, he said he hadn't known that the baron could hear him when he was talking to a friend about me. That's the kind of man the baron is; he doesn't wait for someone to ask before lending a hand. He's like you that way."

Bearskin started in surprise. "Like me?"

"Oh, aye, lad. He's like you, if you deserve your reputation, that is."

She gave him a small smile and continued cutting wood for him. "I don't know what people usually say about me. All I know is that despite what people think, I've never met a royal and I've never slain a dragon."

"You haven't?" the man said in surprise. "What about a unicorn?"

"I would never!" she gasped in horror.

"Werewolf?" he asked in resignation.

"Just normal wolves that go mad. Want to see the best scar?" she asked while reaching for her left shoulder.

"Ah, no, not really," he assured her with a nervous smile.

She grinned rather evilly. "I didn't think so."

ooOoo

"Are you kidding? People line up to live on his land!"

"He's the best friend of the prince regent and his most trusted advisor!"

"His wife's the loveliest for miles around!"

"If more aristocrats were like him, this world would be a much better place."

No matter who she asked, the answers all rang the same way. He was a good man, a shining example to both the noble and common in every way.

There was no way that a man like that could be part of a trap.

'_Why is my heart pounding so at the thought of meeting him? I haven't felt this excited in __**years**__! … Would he still want to help me, if I told him the reason I got cursed?' _

She walked through the forest, still not comfortable with traveling on roads if she didn't have to. A brisk autumn breeze flew past, playing with her short white hair and fur cloak.

Just for a minute, she stopped walking, closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of fresh air. She could smell crisp leaves and the distant scent of a fox. There was a promise of cool snow in that breeze, making her heart pound in longing.

She never thought it was going to be possible, that she would grow to love snow so much. After all, it was all she had known growing up and had been quite tired of it before beginning her journey. But now, snow reminded her of Papa, still waiting and hoping for the chance to successfully say her name.

'_How is he doing without me? Has word of my deeds stretched to the Northern Lands yet? I wonder how Machida is.' _Her heart throbbed painfully, making her shake her head with a growl. "Husband and father, most likely; that's what he dreamed of, after all."

A drop of wetness suddenly smacked against her nose. She blinked in surprise and looked up into the sky. It had grown dark despite the hour and the distant rumble of thunder was beginning to be heard.

"Why do I let myself get distracted like this?" Bearskin groaned as she began running. As her long legs ran through the forest, she would occasionally grab a log of wood and hold it under her cloak as the rain became more abundant. There wasn't even time to set up her tarp tent.

But once her eyes came across a small cave, the pale woman knew that she wasn't going to wait until reaching the next village to rest. She dove for the entrance and kicked out the random debris that the wind had carried into it. There was nothing in the cave, making her sigh happily.

She dropped her armful of wood to the ground and proceeded to make a fire as the rain turned into a downpour. "This will actually work better. Caves are more comfortable than any bed from the capital." Personally, she couldn't understand how people could stand sleeping in beds. They were too _soft _to possibly get good rest on.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had skipped lunch again. She sighed, eased her cooking pot out of the satchel and began preparing her favorite version of rabbit stew. It was a variety that had more vegetables than meat and only enough spices to bring out the natural flavor. It should be tasty with the bread she had from the last inn.

She kept tasting, stirring, adding an onion or dash of spice when she thought the stew needed it. By the time she deemed the taste just right, there was enough stew to make a decent supper and breakfast for her. Pulling her simple wooden bowl out of the wonderful satchel, she used a small cup to scoop stew into the bowl and sit back with a happy sigh.

This really was wonderful. Nothing made her feel more at home like stone and earth surrounding her like a protective shell. How come people thought living in caves was so strange? It was dark outside the cave now, with only occasional light from lightning.

The downpour outside the mouth of the cave suddenly got an uneven beat, as if someone was passing through the almost waterfall covering the entrance. She looked over, but saw nothing. Shrugging, she pulled out a spoon to start on her supper.

"Me… _meow_?"

She sat up sharply and looked at the entrance again. Someone had been there, after all. But he had been so small, that she hadn't noticed him the first time.

It was a cat.

He- she could only assume it was a he- was dripping wet, as if he had just escaped a bathtub. His limbs were shaking badly and his large green eyes were locked on the cursed trapper.

She looked back at him coolly and waited for him to turn back into the storm outside in a panic. A whole minute passed as the stew cooled in her hands, but the feline did not make a move to leave.

In fact, he didn't make a move at all. Even a statue couldn't have been as still, as he stared at her with an open mouth.

At last, Bearskin grew tired of the staring contest; sighing in resignation. "Look, if you would like somewhere to wait out the storm, I don't mind sharing the cave. If you're hungry, I've got plenty of food," she coaxed, stretching a bit to set the bowl as close to the cat as possible without actually coming close to him. Then she filled the cup she had used before with stew and began sipping it like tea.

The cat seemed to break free from whatever spell it was under, because he cautiously approached the bowl, putting his body closer to the warmth of the little fire. He sniffed politely at the stew and began lapping at it.

Bearskin kept watching him through the corner of her eye; amazed as the cat's appetite began asserting itself almost viciously, until he was licking the bowl clean with his tongue. Who knew when he had last eaten? "There's a bit more stew, if you're still hungry."

He mewed hopefully at her, making her bite back a laugh and refill the bowl for him. There was just enough stew to fill them both, with a bit of room for some bread.

When the cat began rubbing against one of her legs to mew in gratitude, she took that as an invitation to use a spare blanket from her satchel to dry off his soaking fur. Even stranger, the cat did not fight her at all. He kept perfectly still as she worked the blanket over his body until his fur was sticking up a little funny, but at least he was mostly dry.

Wondering if it would break the silent truce between them, she pulled out the wooden comb she usually used for herself and began gently running it through the soft orange fur.

The cat began growling at her. She quickly withdrew the comb, silently scolding herself. _'What was I thinking? That's far too much for me to ask.'_

The tawny feline looked up at her with alarm and began meowing in protest.

"Sorry about that; I just wanted to fix your fur a bit," she apologized self-consciously, not really looking him in the eye.

He stared at her in shock, but shook his head to growl again.

"I said I was sorry-" she made to protest, but he hopped into her lap to cover her mouth with one tiny white paw.

He shook his head again and continued that strange growl. As Bearskin listened to it, she slowly realized that it didn't sound angry. If anything, it sounded… _content_?

She reached up to remove the paw from her mouth. "Is… is that a purr?" she couldn't help but ask.

He nodded with relief and patted the hand holding the comb encouragingly before presenting his back to her.

Still feeling a bit hesitant, she resumed combing his fur as gently as possible. He arched his back happily and went right back to purring.

It really was a beautiful sound, now that she wasn't misunderstanding it. No wonder her father said nothing was more soothing. Or had it been her mother? It had been so long ago, she could barely remember.

Now that the cat was dry and happy on her lap, she could more fully notice the strange markings on its paws. The front ones were as white as his underbelly, although the arms were orange like the rest of him. The back legs, though, were almost completely white, even going at a slant to mimic boots.

'_Boots and gloves. At least he's dressed for formal occasions,' _she couldn't help but think while suppressing a laugh.

He looked over a shoulder to look at her in confusion. His large green eyes, she suddenly realized, were the exact same shade as what she had seen upon leaving the Northern Lands.

She still thought it was the most beautiful color in the world.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" she couldn't help but whisper in her true voice. "No animal can stand being near me for so long."

Those green eyes seemed startled at the simple fact. He turned to her and began meowing at a rapid pace, as if speaking to her. She listened carefully for several minutes, but couldn't understand a word.

Bearskin sighed tiredly. "Are you a fairy?" It seemed a bit implausible, but it was worth asking.

He shook his head in exasperation.

"A fairy's companion?"

Another shake of the head, although he added an irritated growl to it.

"Then I can handle whatever it is you are," she sighed with relief. "I don't mess with the Fae if I can help it; still haven't recovered from the last time I met one."

He gaped at her with an open mouth.

She ignored the look and checked on the fire. She had just about used up all the wood she brought and the storm wasn't letting up at all. They would have to stay the night.

She grabbed the dirty dishes and moved close to the mouth of the cave to wash them out in the downpour. She sloshed the water around as it poured into each one and shook them dry before depositing them back into her wonderful satchel. "It looks like we'll be here until at least morning. If you want to share my cloak to sleep in, I don't mind."

The cat's entire body twitched and he looked at her in horror.

"It's a little late to be scared of me, you know," she informed him as she carefully laid out enough of her cloak for her to lie down on and wrap herself in the other half like a cocoon. "You've stuck around long enough to see I'm not going to hunt you, so what's your problem?"

He was still looking at her nervously, too scared to even meow. His eyes trailed across her fur- covered body, almost like it was a sleeping predator.

"Suit yourself. I won't even say anything when the fire goes out and it gets cold in here." She yawned and adjusted her hood for a pillow. "Good night, cat."

ooOoo

_There were so many men, all of them screaming in fear. They tried to run, but she was too quick for them._

_With a roar like thunder, her great paws slammed them to the ground, occasionally running her long claws through their flesh. Her maw was dripping with blood-_

She sat up with a gasp, just able to keep herself from screaming. A sob worked its' way past her guard, along with several tears as she tried to regain control.

Nightmares were no strangers to her. But the hardest ones to bear, even more than reliving her human kills, were the ones when she was a blood-thirsty polar bear after innocent people.

"_Never_," she snarled under her breath as she panted. "I'll never be that. I won't."

A tired mew reached her ears, making her look down. The little cat had snuck under her cloak and into her arms sometime after she fell asleep. He started rubbing at his face to help himself wake up.

"No, don't do that," she whispered, lying back down again and rubbing his fur. "I just had a nightmare, go back to sleep. It's still night, go to sleep."

He gave her a funny look, but licked her gloved hand before curling up in her arms again. A purr once again was heard, helping the young woman to calm down.

Bearskin had a strange revelation, as both she and the feline fell back asleep against the sound of the beating rain.

Having someone to comfort her after a bad dream… felt good.

ooOoo

The next morning was crisp and cool, and the smell of snow not distant at all. Bearskin crawled out of the cave and stretched her limbs gratefully. "I _still_ don't know why people prefer beds to caves," she sighed as she turned a bit.

The tawny cat was standing in the mouth of the cave, looking at her warily. But at least he wasn't scared of her anymore.

"Well… I guess this is goodbye, cat," she said regretfully. "I need to get going, there's a baron within a day's-"

"Meow!" he yelled, running up to her to paw against one leg desperately. "Meow meow!"

"That's right, he wants to meet me," she confirmed, unable to keep from smiling a true smile. "If I'm lucky, he might be able to _cure_ me!"

The cat growled in irritation, shaking his head at a rapid pace.

"Hey, I can hope!" she defended hotly. "No one's ever reached out to me like this before. He might have the cure!"

"Meow!" he retorted while still shaking his head.

The pale woman bit her lip angrily. "I guess there's one way to prove you wrong. I should get to his place before sundown." She turned to go.

The cat circled around her, standing in her way in a defensive position while still shaking his head, hissing and spitting in horror. She kept trying to step around him, but the little cat seemed determined to keep her from leaving. He kept hopping in front of her, meowing angrily and shaking his head.

"Just what is wrong with you? You were so sweet-tempered last night!" she reminded him in irritation.

He slapped one hand against his face much like a human with a headache, and began meowing slowly, putting emphasis on each syllable.

The cursed trapper looked at him, trying to puzzle out his strange behavior. She knelt down to close the distance between them, and to look into his eyes again.

They were angry and… fearful? Of what? No less than thirty-six people had told her that the Baron von Gikkingen was a good man.

Suddenly, she understood. It wasn't about the baron at all, he didn't have a home! Maybe he just didn't want to say goodbye.

"Did you want to come with me?" she asked softly. She wasn't all that interested in saying goodbye, either.

His entire body froze over in fear, and he started shaking his head even more furiously.

"Stop that, you'll hurt yourself," she scolded, stopping his head with one hand. A bite of the lip and an alternative was reached. "You know, you were really good company last night. It felt nice not to have to keep up with my gruff voice. It hurts my vocal chords more than I'd like to admit."

He stopped meowing and was now looking at her in confusion.

"I'll make you a deal, cat. I'm going to go meet the baron now and that will leave you alone."

He started meowing worriedly again.

She started talking fast, not wanting him to go violent again. "But whether or not he can cure me, I'll come back here for you. If you're gone, I'll assume that you can take care of yourself and this really is goodbye. _But_, if you're not opposed to spending even more time around a trapper like me, I'd be happy to take you along."

His mouth fell open a bit.

"I can't make a lot of promises on what happens from there. If I'm cured, I'll… well, I guess I don't… really know." She gave an ironic laugh. "Not that I ever really know what I'm going to do while cursed, except that I'll probably keep up with what I usually do; travel around and make a nuisance of myself until finding the place that can cure me."

He kept staring at her, although the shock was beginning to be replaced with… wonder? Hope? It was hard to tell.

"Remember, you'll probably have a couple hours to make a decision before I come back." She rubbed his head gently. "I can't guarantee safety, but I can guarantee an adventure or two, if you're interested. Choose wisely and be well, cat." She rubbed his head again, much like she had with children, and took off running before he had a chance to stop her again.

'_Wouldn't it be nice if he decided to come along? He probably won't, but it'd be nice if he did. I didn't have to lie around him at all.' _She shook her head to clear it and increased her speed. She shouldn't be worrying about the cat; that would work itself out one way or another.

What she should be thinking about was the Baron of Piaal. But if that was so… why did she feel so cold?


	10. Distorted

**Chapter Ten: Distorted**

_The most dangerous untruths are truths moderately distorted._

_-Georg Christoph Lichtenberg_

ooOoo

The first thing Bearskin noticed was a tall iron fence surrounding a great deal of land. The second thing she saw was the pale grey stones that made up the manor within the walls, still a good distance away.

It seemed a little rude to just hop over the fence, so she walked alongside it at a comfortable pace_. 'This is it. I'm going to meet the man that might be able to cure me. Oh, please let him cure me!'_ She did some breathing exercises and wondered why her heart still felt like a cold stone.

Ahead, she could hear some violent whimpering as well as a struggle from two men.

"Calm down, will you? Blimey; it's as if they're smelling a ghost!" one man exclaimed as she came into view.

Two guards were struggling to keep control over a pair of panicked dogs.

Bearskin sighed, wishing they were like the cat. "They're acting like that because of me."

Both men looked over at her and gaped shamelessly. One man was even shocked enough to let go of the dog he was holding, making it run into the trees as fast as it could. The other one could only whimper in fear.

"Not to be a bother, but would this be the von Gikkingen estate?" she asked in a gruff voice while knocking on one of the iron bars of the fence. "The baron would like to have a word with me."

The older man snapped to attention and actually bowed to her. "This is, but you've come at a terrible time, Bearskin. The baron's gone missing, you see."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What? What happened?"

"We don't really-"

"Henry!" a man snapped as he ran through the courtyard to stand on the other side of the gate. "Why haven't you let Bearskin in yet?"

The guard seemed surprised. "Isn't Baron still miss-"

"Of course he isn't, you simpleton. He was found in his rooms just this morning. Now let Bearskin in immediately!"

Both of the guards exchanged relieved looks as the younger guard opened the gate.

Bearskin slipped through, gave the men a polite nod and turned her attention to the man in front of her. His fine, yet simple attire nearly screamed that he was in the higher ranks of servants.

"I hope the guards didn't keep you waiting all that long, Bearskin," the man apologized, sounding only a little less self- important than before as he led her into the large manor. "The lord's brief disappearance really gave us all a turn."

"May I inquire what happened?" she asked gruffly.

"He simply wished to be alone for a while. He frequently wishes for that, but forgot to tell anyone that he was leaving for a bit. He truly has been looking forward to meeting you for a while, you know."

"So he said in the letter," she confirmed, unable to shake the uneasy feeling. What could possibly be wrong?

The man led her up a staircase and down a long hallway before poking his head through a door. "My lord? Bearskin has arrived."

"Splendid. Send him in," an aristocratic voice replied, almost making the girl's hair stand on end.

'_Why am I reacting like this? I know there's nothing to fear.'_ Keeping her face blank, she nodded at the man as he held the door open for her and walked through it at a brisk pace.

The room was a study and a large one at that. She really wanted to stare at all the books lining the walls, but forced her attention to the desk on the other side of the room.

The man seated at it was alarmingly handsome; more so than she was used to seeing. His hair, she was surprised to see, was the exact same orange as the fur on the cat she had shared the cave with. It took several steps closer to the desk to see that he had the same eyes as well.

No. They weren't the same at all. The same color, perhaps, but… the cat's eyes had been much warmer.

The baron studied her silently for a minute, taking in her features with his gloved hands folded together in front of his mouth.

"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked gruffly.

"Oh no. I was merely expecting you to be older, that's all." He gestured for her to take a seat on the other side of the desk.

She grunted while shrugging one shoulder before sitting down. "I get that a lot. Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about first?"

"… Please forgive me, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. Would you care for a brandy?" he asked, about to get up from his chair.

"No thank you. I never drink in public." _'I'd have thought for sure that he would have known that, if he collects stories about me.'_

He looked at her in surprise, but settled back into his seat. "Ah. Well, I did have a bit of a problem recently, but it took care of itself in the end. I'm sorry that you made this trip for nothing."

She cocked her head in confusion. "You stated in the letter that you didn't need my help."

"I was being modest. But, nonetheless, the problem fixed itself only recently, although I thank you for answering my call for help."

Bearskin stared at him, growing suspicious. _'He said he was hoping for an excuse to contact me. Why didn't he take it?' _"You had another reason for contacting me. Do you recall what it is?" _'He didn't need my help, why is he saying he did?'_

"I'm afraid I don't. Would you mind refreshing my memory?" he asked with a tolerant smile.

The foreboding feeling increased, as well as a barely suppressed rage. She slowly stood up as her fists began to shake.

"If you can so easily forget what you wrote me in the letter," she said in a slow growl, "then coming here was a waste of both of our time. Have a pleasant day, _sir_." She turned on her heel to leave.

"Hold on," the lord snarled as he stood up from his seat. "You're going to storm off just because I don't remember?"

"If it didn't matter enough to you to remember, you couldn't have done what you said, anyway. Don't bother calling for me again, even if you need my help." She slammed the door shut behind her and marched down the hallway at a brisk pace. The march continued down the stairs and right out the door; not stopping for anything or anyone, even as the servants got out of her way with horrified expressions.

Was the horror because of the look on her face? It had to be, because she couldn't imagine any other reason.

"What? Out already?" one of the guards asked as she marched right out the gate and kept going.

"Your lord should have stayed lost, if he can't remember his promises," she snarled, just before breaking into a run. Not because she was scared, but because she needed to blow off steam.

But, really! How could he have just forgotten that he had promised to help her find a cure? How dare he get her hopes up if he had no intention of following through? She should have at least punched the man before storming off.

After leaving the road and dissolving into the forest terrain, she kept running in an attempt to leave her disappointment behind her.

It didn't work.

Without warning, something slammed into her back at a focused point; a sensation she was well-familiar with by now.

Someone just tried to shoot her. If her cloak wasn't thick enough to deflect arrows and knives, she surely would have been killed by now. She whirled around in an instant, pulled on the hood to protect her head and charged in the direction that the arrow had come from.

"It didn't work!" one archer wailed as a slightly familiar band of thieves tried their luck with various weapons.

"This was the wrong day for revenge," Bearskin snarled as her body began the familiar dance.

One man tried to bludgeon her over the head, but she was quick enough to use his momentum to slam his body to the ground. Another man tried to grab her cloak to hold her in place, but instead of struggling against the hold, she slammed her head back into his, knocking him out like a light.

Another thief got in a lucky stab at her leg, but was rewarded with getting both of his own legs broken. One by one, all of the thieves fell until she was breaking the archer's bow over her injured leg.

"No!" the archer wailed as she tossed both pieces into the underbrush.

"If any of you value your lives," she snarled at them, or at least the conscious ones, "you'll forget about revenge and take up honest occupations. Next time we meet, I just might decide to kill all of you."

The pale trapper was no stranger to killing without her berserker blood by now. She just avoided doing it whenever possible. She tied a handkerchief over her bleeding leg and took up running until she was a good distance from the fight. The young woman had to force herself to walk after that; it wasn't good to aggravate her injury just because her temper hadn't cooled off yet.

It took her another two hours of walking to get back to the little cave. By then, the sun beginning to set.

Much to her surprise, the little orange cat was still there, although he was meowing in worry and circling around her as he looked at her injured leg.

"Don't worry about this. I get worse injuries all the time," she assured him through a forced smile, crawling into the cave again with difficulty. "Some old enemies of mine must have heard about the measures the baron-"

He meowed once sharply.

She gave him a surprised glance as she sat down comfortably. "That the baron-"

He meowed again.

"Stop that," she scolded while fishing around her satchel for a jar of her healing ointment. "That… well, they heard I was going to be in the area at some time and set up an ambush. They won't be setting another one for a while. I didn't kill them," she quickly defended when she saw the horror in the cat's eyes. "I don't kill unless I don't have a choice. Killing's what got me into this mess in the first place."

He gaped at her, so she busied herself with finding enough bandages for her leg. Once they and the healing ointment were found, she unfastened her belt and pulled off her pants so that she could get at the injury. The ointment stung slightly as she worked it into the deep cut, but she was used to that by now.

Halfway through doctoring her bare leg, Bearskin suddenly noticed that the cat was being unusually quiet. She looked up to see if he was still around.

He was around, all right. But he was staring at a wall with his back to her, not even a muscle seen to be moving. Was it because she wasn't completely dressed?

"Well, whatever else you are, at least you're a gentleman," she laughed after another moment, returning to the knife wound in the dimming light. "That's a lot more than I can say for the Baron-"

He meowed again, but didn't turn to look at her.

"-von Gikkingen," she finished in irritation. "Do you really have to do that every time I say 'baron'?"

He meowed the affirmative while nodding vigorously.

The pale trapper growled in exasperation. "You know, if you keep doing that every time I say the word, I'm going to start calling you that," she informed him; intending it as a threat.

The tawny cat sighed tiredly and then purred at her.

She stared at him in surprise as she finished bandaging her leg. "… You _want_ me to call you Baron?"

He purred again, although keeping his eyes on the wall. Eyes that were only a shade different from the obnoxious nobleman she just left. Even the fur was about the same orange as the man's hair…

"All right, that's your name now," she surrendered with a sigh while pulling on her pants. "Besides, I'd much rather call you Baron than that… that sorry excuse for a lord," she snarled in disgust. "I mean, honestly! How could he have just… forgotten what he promised? You would think that if he was going to offer to help me with the curse, he would have the decency to remember what he wrote!" She slammed her fists against the side of the cave in frustration, making it groan and loosen little rocks from the ceiling.

The cat remained silent. A little too silent, when considering his earlier behavior. His ears were also hanging low and his shoulders were slumped over.

"… Sorry about my temper, Baron," she apologized, feeling ashamed of herself. "It's sometimes hard for me to keep a grip on it. But, I really was hoping that the bar- I mean, the lord… he said he could help me and forgot. If he really could have helped, he wouldn't have forgotten. It's… just… it would have been nice, to find out what it's like to be normal," she said wistfully. "It's been so long since I've been normal... I don't remember what it was like."

Baron made to turn around, but then quickly faced the wall again while twitching nervously.

She bit back a melancholy laugh while buckling her belt. "I'm decent again if that's what you're worried about."

It was only then that he turned around to look at her, now very melancholy. On an impulse, the cursed woman held her arms out to him. He padded across the cave to hop into them without question.

She rubbed one ear carefully, making him lean his head into her touch. "So, Baron… I'll take it you're not opposed to the thought of aimlessly traveling with me?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He purred an affirmative.

"Then it's settled, we'll leave first thing in the morning. I think I'll skip on trading again until out of the baronetcy though; the innkeepers he paid were very insistent on me accepting the hospitality and I don't want to indebt myself to that sorry excuse of a lord more than I already have."

Her new cat gave her a very mournful look and bumped his head against one of her cheeks.

"All those warm baths were turning me soft, anyway," she mumbled as she opened her satchel. "Are you hungry, Baron? I've got some more meat, but I didn't think to grab any firewood on the way-"

He pressed a paw over her mouth; a mischievous twinkle in his eyes just seeable in the dimming light. Then he hopped out of her lap and padded a little deeper into the cave.

Bearskin had to squint a bit to see in the darkness, but she was able to make out a decent pile of twigs and branches that hadn't been there when she left that morning. Baron sat down next to it and patted the pile with a smug purr.

"… It must have taken you all day, to gather that much," she concluded numbly.

He nodded with another purr.

A wide, true smile came over her face as she crawled deeper into the cave to start a fire. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Baron."

When the flames came to life, she could see that the cat was smiling, perhaps in agreement.

ooOoo

"Me-ow," Baron groaned, limping behind after a mere three miles through forest terrain.

"You're not used to walking, are you?" Bearskin asked sympathetically, turning around to pick him up. "Here, you can ride for now."

Purring gratefully, he climbed onto her shoulders and licked one of her cheeks as he found a comfortable position around her neck, almost like a stole. She rubbed one cheek against his fur and kept walking. "Maybe it would be better to just plain get out of the kingdom itself. I was told that the Baron von Gikkingen was the prince regent's most trusted advisor and he might tell the man something to make me a wanted criminal."

Baron growled, shaking his head firmly.

"I'd rather not take chances. After all, _his_ reputation was misleading; how hard would it be to make up a few unflattering things about me?"

He rubbed one cheek against hers, still growling defiantly.

She gave him a slightly annoyed look. "Has anyone ever told you that you're opinionated? Because you are really opinionated." A shy smile crossed her lips. "At least talking with you isn't going to be boring."

He purred at the compliment and bumped his nose against her cheek. Bearskin could only assume that it was an affectionate gesture.

Her feet kept pounding against soft earth and cool grass, with only occasional leaves crunching from her weight. She could feel Baron's claws cling to her cloak as she jumped over large rocks and small cliffs. Thankfully, that was the only sign he gave that he was still nervous, other than a slight tremble in his body.

"Relax, I'm being careful," she scolded with a small smile, patting his back with a gloved hand. "Be glad I'm not in a hurry, or I'd run. But running's not a bad idea," she continued thoughtfully. "If my map's accurate, the Piaal baronetcy is pretty big. Isn't it strange? I mean, a baron's fairly low-ranking in the aristocracy and yet the Baron of Piaal has a pretty large area to look after. Maybe it has something to do with all those intermarriages."

Her cat chose not to comment and she was at the wrong angle to see his facial expression. Since he didn't seem interested in hearing her talk anymore, the next several miles were walked silently, with him raising a bit of fuss when she had to cross a river.

"Oh, will you stop it?" she scolded as his fur stood on end and he was standing up on her shoulders. "It's only to my knees, nowhere close to getting you wet."

He meowed worriedly.

"Seriously, Baron, calm down," Bearskin sighed, keeping one hand on his body to brace him in case she tripped on the slick rocks.

His claws sank into her cloak, but at least it wasn't her clothes. She would be sure to have more scars in the morning if he was gripping anything but her cloak.

"Honestly, what's gotten into you? You're acting like I'm going to give you a bath. … You know, a bath doesn't sound all that bad," she mused thoughtfully. It had been almost three days since her last one and it was such a hassle to safely bathe in the winter.

Baron meowed in terror.

"I meant for me," the pale woman explained with a sigh. "I'm getting a feeling that cats don't like baths."

He nodded firmly, mewing in relief as she reached the other side of the river.

'… _Not here. It's too close to civilization for my taste and most of my clothes are still clean.'_ "I'll worry about baths another time," she decided, much to her cat's approval.

But he seemed to change his mind when she gently set him on a rock and waded into the water again.

"Fish sounds good for dinner, wouldn't you think so?" she asked, pulling her trusty net out of the satchel to start casting it into the water.

His next meow was much more enthusiastic and he made himself comfortable on the rock. At least for minute, then he decided to hop off and start dragging branches into a pile.

"Isn't it a little early for that, Baron?" she called out to him as she almost caught a fish. "I mean, its hours until dinner time."

He briefly set the branch he had been dragging down so that he could meow at her before picking it up again.

"If it will amuse you," she sighed, managing to snare a trout with her net.

It took her another hour to catch enough fish, after figuring out that the cat wasn't going to let her skip out on lunch as usual.

But once she pulled out a knife and started cleaning the first fish, Baron began retching strangely.

Bearskin looked up at him curiously, but he was now facing away from her. His entire body was shaking as he stared at a distant rock.

"Baron? Is something wrong?"

He only gave a shudder for an answer.

She gave him another strange look but shrugged it off to return to cleaning the fish. They still had a long way to go, and she wanted out of the kingdom as soon as possible.

Once she was done cleaning all the fish, she started a fire to start cooking them whole. "Thanks for gathering fuel for the fire, Baron. It means we'll be back to walking that much faster."

He finally turned enough to look at her, his expression still haunted.

Bearskin used two sticks to skewer a pair of fish for lunch. "You know, I kind of wish I could understand what animals say so that I could really talk with you. But then, I really wouldn't be able to cope with being a trapper if I could understand animals," she couldn't help but admit, fighting back a laugh at the thought.

He gave her a sad look as he mewed softly. The sound seemed to be an agreement.

She gave him a tiny smile and returned to cooking lunch. _ 'Not that I ever really enjoyed being a trapper.'_

ooOoo

By the second day, they were out of the Piaal baronetcy, but still in the kingdom of Lycea. Bearskin had been careful not to let herself be seen in public over the three days, but now that she had company in the form of Baron, she wasn't feeling as lonely as usual.

For now the little cat was walking, so the trapper was taking an easier trail through the forest to make it more manageable for him. She pulled out one of her maps to look over it carefully. "According to this, we should be crossing the border in another day or so. Which kingdom do you think sounds better; Alsdea or Thegui?"

He answered with a low growl that sounded like a grumble.

Bearskin looked down at him feeling silly. "Oh, right. I keep forgetting you can't talk." She stopped walking in order to kneel next to him. The pale woman spread the map carefully over her lap. "Go ahead, Baron. Pick our next destination."

He gave her a strange look, but scratched at his chin with a paw while studying the map with a serious expression.

"Would you like me to tell you what the places are? Because this one's-" she tried to name the places.

"Meow," he cut her off firmly, hesitating only a minute more before placing his paw on the thick paper.

She looked at the place he wanted. "Very well; Alsdea it is. But it looks like I'll need to get another map soon, if we want to see what's beyond it."

Baron mewed in agreement and gave her a warm smile as they started walking again.

Even walking through the forest didn't feel as lonely as it used to. Bearskin smiled to herself while keeping an eye on her cat. _'Even if the lord couldn't help me, at least I have Baron now.'_

Suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Meow?" Baron asked, but she shushed him excitedly.

Kneeling down to keep behind a large bush, her eyes were glued to a small cottage that was still a good distance away.

It was a very run-down sort of place, with a slightly caving roof and a curtain instead of a door. There was a thin young woman working in a muddy garden, but she was too far away to make any details other than the fact that she was blonde.

"Stay close and stay quiet," Bearskin whispered, carefully moving from foliage to tree to get closer to the small hut.

The girl, perhaps her age, was weeding her garden with only a stick and her hands. Much of her was smeared with mud, including her tired face. She wiped at the sweat on her face with one arm, even as she suppressed a shiver.

Now that Bearskin was closer, she could see why the woman was shivering. Her dress was very thin and her slippers were no good for living out in the woods. If this was summer, there wouldn't be a problem, but… winter was coming soon.

If that was all she had for clothing, the girl wouldn't survive long after the first snowfall.

Baron snuck a peek at the woman from under the large bush he was hiding behind. For a second, Bearskin could have sworn that he gasped, but it might have been a breeze. From behind the tree, the trapper studied her latest prey with glee.

This was exactly what she needed to help her forget about the arrogant lord of Piaal. Even better; she looked to have the same body build as the cursed woman.

For over an hour, they studied both the girl and her humble home. Once she was convinced that the girl was the only one who lived there, the trapper motioned for her cat to follow her from the scene as discreetly as possible.

Just as soon as they were a safe distance from the cottage, the tiny feline started meowing insistently.

"Baron, my friend," Bearskin said while grinning at him. "You're about to get introduced to my favorite part about being a nomad."

He gave her a confused look, but kept meowing.

"Don't worry, I'm not… _we're_ not going to let her rough it on her own. Now, let's see what I've got," she murmured while sifting through her bag. She pulled out a thick winter jacket that was one of her favorites. "This one would look nice on her, don't you think?"

Baron gaped at her.

"Well, I think it would," she informed him while folding the jacket neatly to drape it over a thick branch. "I wish I had known that I was going to run across her when I last traded. She looks like she could use a new dress, though shoes aren't going to be a problem."

It took another hour for her to sift through her bag, but by the time she was done, a modest pile of her best and warmest clothes were in the pile, as well as a long covered dagger. Even her best and warmest set of boots had made it into the pile.

Bearskin looked at the pile with a sniff, before sweeping everything into a burlap sack. "Gold will have to suffice for what I can't give her. Besides, people will talk if they see me buying things for ladies."

Baron nodded numbly, still lost in a silent spell.

"I better go hunting again. She looks like she could use some fresh meat, don't you think? Plus firewood; she's going to need a lot of firewood for the months ahead."

Baron nodded again, although a slight tremor was returning to his body.

Bearskin looked at him, remembering the last time he had shaken like that. It had been when she had caught that rabbit for supper the night before. "My friend," she said slowly. "Do you hate watching me ply my trade?"

Her cat flinched guiltily, looking at his perfectly white paws in shame.

The pale woman sighed and extracted her hand from one glove to run her fingers over his soft fur. "It's okay, Baron. It took me almost two years to get used to skinning and such. Or was it three?" she couldn't help but wonder aloud. So much of her childhood had been absorbed by her father's trade that it was hard to remember things like that.

He looked up at her, his expression still shamed as he licked her bare wrist.

"If you want to wait for me here, you don't have to watch me do it," she offered, although a small part of her was worried that he was going to take the opportunity to escape.

Baron looked around and nodded with a comforting mew before licking her wrist again.

She gave him a half-hearted smile while standing up. "I'll be back in a few hours. There's still a lot of daylight left and we're going to need it."

ooOoo

The full moon was out, when the two came close to the cottage again. In Bearskin's hands was the bag from before, but it was now stuffed to capacity with spare blankets and carefully packaged deer meat. It wasn't much, but at least it and the bag of gold she had included should be enough to help the young woman settle comfortably in for the winter.

As silently as possible, Bearskin avoided the branches surrounding the area so that she could set the bag next to the entrance of the small home. Now that she was closer, she could see that the curtain was made of what looked like the remains of a long robe or dress. In the moonlight, she leaned closer; trying to discern the barely legible pattern in the worn cloth.

Baron pawed at her leg, reminding her why they were here. Shaking free from her thoughts, Bearskin nodded at him while untying a stiff package from her torso.

Her largest tarp was now stained as white as the rest of her, but it had been the quietest way to bring it that she could think of. Walking around the cottage to the side, she started unfolding it. The stiff material crinkled at her touch, making both human and cat turn stiff with horror. It was a cool silent night and the sound seemed louder than thunder.

But since no sound came from the cottage, the trapper took a deep breath to calm her nerves and laid the tarp out on the ground. She started unfolding the material, unable to keep it from occasionally crackling in protest. When it grew too big, Baron began stationing himself on the opposite side, using his entire body to unfold it. But since there was more tarp than him, he had to resort to dragging the cloth with his teeth. The resulting sound made avalanches seem quiet by comparison.

"Shh, she'll hear us," Bearskin cautioned as her heart beat louder than ever.

There, it was halfway folded now. Just one more fold, and then they could-

A sharp gasp interrupted her thoughts, making the cursed trapper drop the tarp and wheel around on instinct.

The pale woman was awake and standing just outside the curtain. A thin dirty blanket was around her shoulders as both hands flew to her mouth in complete shock.

Bearskin's flesh ran colder than ice. This wasn't the first time someone had woken up, but it was definitely the first time anyone had seen her in the act. "Drat," she growled under her breath while looking at her cat. "I told you she'd hear us."

Baron mewed defensively, but a sentence from the young woman made them forget about waking her up.

"Did… did my father send you?" she whispered in horror.


	11. To Become Independant

**Chapter Eleven: To Become Independent**

_Charity is injurious unless it helps the recipient to become independent of it._

_-John D. Rockefeller_

ooOoo

Bearskin looked at her in confusion, tilting her head a bit as she forced her body to relax. "No. Should he have?"

The young woman started shaking, and backing away from the cottage. "No… no please," she begged as her eyes began to overflow with tears. "Don't make me go back to him. _Please_."

Bearskin looked at her and slowly offered her gloved hands out in a gesture of friendship. "I am not here to hurt you, miss. If you need proof, look in the bag next to your curtain."

She looked at the bag nervously, though her eyes kept twitching back to the trapper.

"I assure you that I don't have the slightest idea who you are and I'm here to help. Go on, see what's in the bag," she coaxed, almost like a gruff parent with a reluctant child.

It was times like this that it was hardest to use her 'man voice'. It was taking all her willpower not to use her true voice, especially after talking normally to Baron for days.

Slowly, as if the trapper were an animal, the pale girl stepped closer to the curtain and lifted the bag with difficulty. Her hair almost appeared to be white by the light of the full moon as she felt some of the packages of meat. She looked up at Bearskin in wonder.

"There's more than food," she encouraged in a gruff voice, kneeling down to pet Baron with one gloved hand.

Even her cat was purring in a soothing manner, like he was also trying to convince the girl that there was nothing to fear.

The blonde woman dug deeper into the bag, her beautiful eyes turning wide as saucers as she pulled out the thick winter jacket. She held the bit of clothing to her chest happily and put down the bag so that she could try it on. "If… if it wasn't to take me back to my father," she said slowly as she worked the wooden buttons down the front. "What were you going to do with that tarp?"

"Firewood doesn't do anyone any good if it gets wet. I chopped you enough to get through two weeks, but I wasn't planning on you catching us in the act. I don't supposed you could manage to keep quiet about seeing-"

Bearskin never got the chance to finish her sentence. The girl was too busy throwing herself at the trapper, wrapping her in a hug and weeping into one shoulder. Baron yelped and took several steps back from the sudden gesture.

Bearskin was shocked. This was the first hug she had received in almost two years. A little hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around the young woman to carefully hug her back. "Shh, shh. Everything's going to be all right."

That just made the girl hug her a little tighter. "I-I," she gasped through her tears. "I… I didn't know… how I was going to do it. All of it… on my own."

Bearskin gently ran her gloved fingers over the girl's angel hair to help her calm down. "Why did you need to do it on your own? Come on, you can tell me."

The young woman took in a shaky breath. "My… my father, he… tried to… make me get… _married_."

Bearskin's flesh ran cold. "I take it you didn't care for his choice of a husband?"

The girl shuddered in horror. "He was even older than my _father_! He bought me from my father like a sack of wheat, just because he wanted to show off a trophy wife."

The trapper's grip turned a little fierce. "I see. Listen, it's late and I can tell you haven't been sleeping well in a while. There are some more blankets in the bag, so why don't you get back to sleep so that you can tell me everything in the morning?"

"You'll still be here?" she begged.

Bearskin nodded with a small smile. "I'll stay as long as you need me to. You're not alone anymore, I promise."

ooOoo

I promise.

Yukina remembered the last time someone said that. Her father had promised her mother before she died that he would not force their daughter into a marriage she did not want. He had _sworn_ on her mother's deathbed that he could keep the promise, but then chose to break it when that… that _swine_ came to call on her.

Despite all the reasons she had to never trust a stranger, she did not doubt Bearskin's word. If anything, she was doubtful of the fact that she had **met **the legendary trapper.

This made another time her father was wrong. He had said that Bearskin was just another story the peasants had concocted. Even if a trapper truly wore white all the time and bleached his body pale as a bone, Yukina was certain that he wouldn't be _that _white without a curse.

When she woke up the next morning, she was warmer than she had been in months. For a split second she thought that she was home, but then recognized the stiff ground underneath the fresh blanket she was sleeping on.

The blonde girl sat up with a start and looked around the tiny cottage she had found and claimed as her own. The pale man was sitting in a corner, the farthest from her. His pure white cloak was wrapped around his body as much as possible, and his cat was sleeping in his arms.

'_I thought all animals were supposed to fear him,' _Yukina mused as she studied the trapper's face.

He was much younger than she had assumed from the stories and somehow… vulnerable. Why he struck her that way, Yukina couldn't tell, but there was something very vulnerable about the man, especially in slumber.

She eyed the pale daggers strapped to his legs, and wondered if it would be wise to wake him. For all she knew, he might kill her on reflexes alone.

The tawny cat in her arms moved around, purring himself into waking up. He stretched lazily from his perch and gave a very fond look to the man holding him.

Yukina stared at him. Her own cat had never given her a look quite like that. It was almost _human_.

The cat turned enough to look at her. He seemed to brighten and hopped out of his place to approach her. He rested both of his little white paws on her lap and began mewing frantically.

"What is it?" she whispered, still fearful of waking Bearskin. "What's wrong?"

He began meowing faster, _pleading _for the girl to understand him. But all the vagabond girl could hear were cat noises.

"… I'm sorry. I can't understand what you're saying," Yukina apologized, feeling a bit ashamed of herself.

The cat gave her a look of despair and hung his head while taking his paws off her lap.

"I really am sorry," she tried again, although she wasn't certain why. After all, how many humans could understand animal speech? She took in a deep breath and scratched his ear while leaning close to the little cat. "How does one safely wake Bearskin?"

The cat looked up at her, gave a small smile and padded back to his owner. He hopped into the man's arms, put his front paws on one shoulder and started licking the trapper's face.

Bearskin began moving around, shaking his head to evade that persistent tongue and finally opened his black eyes with a yawn. "What _is _it with you and licking my face?" he asked in a surprisingly soft voice.

Yukina gaped in surprise. The voice was like a woman's.

No. It _couldn't _be! … Could it?

The tawny feline stopped licking and gave a direct look to the blonde girl on the other side of the small cottage.

Bearskin followed his gaze and shook himself a bit as he-she?- connected eyes with Yukina. "Oh, right. Are you feeling better than last night?" the trapper asked, resuming the gruff voice he had already greeted her with.

She quickly closed her mouth and looked at her lap. The sleeves of her new coat were as white as the trapper was. "I'm warmer, at least. This coat's wonderful." _'We're the same size.'_

The cursed one grinned at her while standing up. "I'm glad to hear that. After I get back from fetching water for breakfast, I want you to tell me what's going on."

'_Couldn't I just as easily ask that of you?' _"That sounds all right," Yukina managed to say, also standing up.

"There's flint and tinder in the bag, would you mind starting a fire?" Bearskin asked while setting his, her, cat down.

"… I've never started a fire before," Yukina admitted shamefully. "At least, not successfully."

Bearskin gave her a startled glance. "Then let's get started. Follow me." She walked out of the one-room cottage with the cat behind her.

Yukina followed, although her mind felt slightly numb. Her thought patterns were already adjusting to the possible fact that the legendary trapper was a _woman_. Her father never would have believed it.

"It's actually pretty easy, once you get the hang of it," Bearskin told her, using her shoes to kick at the ground to remove grass. From any other boot, it would have hardly done anything, but from hers, soon a decent bit of earth was showing in an imperfect circle.

"Most fire pits have stones surrounding it when there's grass, but if you keep a careful eye on it, you shouldn't need it. Now, the trick is to start with smaller branches and such," she informed the girl while gathering a small amount.

Yukina really was listening, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the trapper's face as she explained how to start a fire.

Bearskin was pretty like a girl. The voice could easily be faked. She had never truly been comfortable around men and yet she hugged the pale trapper without really thinking about it.

"… Do you think you have the idea now?" the cursed one asked as a small fire grew underneath her touch.

Yukina snapped back to attention. "It's a bit more straightforward than I thought."

"Good. Now slowly feed it bigger pieces of wood until I get back with the water. Where do you keep your bucket?"

"Um… I don't have one," she admitted. "I've been using a bowl. It was all I had."

Bearskin stared at her in surprise. "That way probably takes all day."

"It does."

"Then I'll be back in a few minutes." Bearskin gave her another smile that seemed guarded and began jogging in the general direction of the stream. "Keep her company, Baron."

"Baron?" Yukina asked in confusion.

"Meow," the little cat answered, placing a tiny paw on her slipper to gain her attention.

She looked down at him, feeling a bit guilty that she hadn't noticed him before. "So, she named you Baron?"

The tawny feline nodded; a smirk almost on his lips.

'_My cat couldn't answer questions like that.' _Yukina took in a deep breath and kneeled next to the cat. "Baron… she _is _a girl, isn't she?"

Baron nodded firmly.

Yukina almost started laughing. _'So it isn't my imagination.' _ She looked in the direction the trapper had left, feeling even better than before. "Then if she can make a living on her own, I can too."

ooOoo

When Bearskin trudged back with her small pot filled with water, the fire was big enough to make breakfast on. "Nicely done," she congratulated the girl while setting the pot carefully between the burning logs. She untied the modest bag of food from her belt to keep suspicions about her satchel low. "Now, why don't you tell me-"

Her cat meowed in irritation.

"-_us_, what you're doing out here on your own?" she finished, giving Baron an apologetic smile. _'Still not used to having company, I guess.'_

"It's a bit of a long story," the blonde woman mumbled, watching her as the trapper began chopping carrots into the pot.

"Tell us anyway. We're not going anywhere for a while."

The girl took in a deep breath and sat on the soft grass. "Well, my name is Yukina, and-"

"_What_?" Bearskin yelped, hopping away in terror as her cat yowled in surprise.

The girl also jumped, giving her a surprised look. "My name is Yukina. Is something wrong?"

The trapper could only stare at her as her heart pounded in her ears. The name was too close to Ukima's for comfort. "Let me see your eyes," she managed to say after a moment, forcing herself to walk closer to the girl.

"My eyes? What's wrong with my eyes?" Yukina asked, looking a little terrified as Bearskin placed one hand on each shoulder to get a good look.

Where Ukima's eyes had been blacker than any cave, Yukina's was a pale, perfect blue. The feeling was also all wrong; the girl's spirit was too warm.

"I'm sorry for acting like that. It was unnecessary," Bearskin apologized formally, releasing the girl's shoulders to turn her attention to the pot again.

The blonde girl shook her head in numb amazement. "What is so terrible about my name? You have a reputation for keeping a cool head in emergencies."

"Reputations can be deceiving, I have a terrible temper. … Your name reminds me of someone I would rather forget," the trapper eventually managed to say, keeping her eyes on the slowly warming water.

Baron rubbed against one leg, his mew questioning. But Bearskin didn't elaborate further.

"… You _could _call me Yuki instead," Yukina offered. "That was my mother's pet name for me."

Bearskin looked at her, barely remembering to keep her smile manly. "Yes, I'd much rather call you Yuki." She took in a deep breath as she started cutting small pieces of deer meat into the pot. "Can we go back to your story?"

Yuki nodded. "I'm from Alsdea, not too far from here. My father is a landowner that sometimes plays at being a merchant. He wants… wanted… nothing more than to become part of the aristocracy. He viewed me as a ticket to that kind of life."

The trapper looked at her sadly. "What rank did your suitor have?"

"He was a duke. But… he was…" A shudder finished the sentence for her.

"Old?"

"If it was just that, I might have gone along with it. But he was just so… _slimy_! He reminded me of a slug, with about as much personality! Father tried to force me to say yes, but… I couldn't bear the thought of letting him _touch _me, let alone anything else!"

Baron abandoned his mistress to paw at her lap with a comforting purr. She gave him a grateful look and scratched his ear warmly.

"How did you escape?" Bearskin asked while sifting through her herb jars for the soup.

"Pure luck, actually. My governess managed to convince one of the guards to pick the lock on my door and make a run for it." Yuki looked down in shame. "They… my father's men… caught up to us. The guard managed to fight them off long enough for my governess to hide me. She ordered me not to reveal myself for her, and to make for another kingdom as soon as possible. They found her and tried to get her to tell them where I was. She led them off in a different direction after they hurt her so I could escape. I don't know if she's still alive."

Bearskin looked at her with amazement. "You've been on your own ever since?"

Yuki nodded miserably. "I don't dare show my face in public. I don't know how widespread the search is for me. I suppose this explains why I was so terrified to meet you."

Baron meowed at her irritably.

"Both of you," Yuki added with a laugh, giving the cat another scratch on the ear.

Bearskin fought back a laugh. "It's okay, I'm still not used to using plurals either. Breakfast will be done in a few minutes. After that, we'll start your training."

The blonde woman looked up at her in surprise. "Training?"

"Naturally. If you're going to be living on your own, there are a lot of things you'll need to learn, especially with winter coming on." She looked at the slightly caving roof of the cottage with disgust. "Fixing up your home's probably going to be first, if you don't want that roof to crash on your head in the middle of the night."

"I _would_ rather avoid that," Yuki admitted with a nervous laugh.

ooOoo

"Ugh, that stuff smells _terrible_!" Yuki groaned as Bearskin stirred a pot of thick green goop a few days later.

"Admittedly, yes, but you wouldn't believe how well this stuff works for injuries of all kinds. It stains your hands green, but that's the worst part of using this stuff."

"I bet it doesn't stain _your _hands green," the pale girl accused as she held an open jar close to the pot.

"You know it can't, at least for long," Bearskin sighed as she began spooning the goop into the jar. "Remember, I went ahead and wrote this recipe into the herb book I gave you yesterday; guard it with your life."

"This stuff works that well?" Yuki asked in surprise.

"Try it when you get hurt chopping wood or gathering berries. It'll make a believer out of you."

Baron meowed in sullen agreement, glaring at his wrapped paw with disgust.

"It made one out of my cat," Bearskin added while fighting back a laugh.

ooOoo

The first arrow missed the target by five feet. The second one shot into the trunk just above it. The third one hit the ground in front of the tree. The fourth one hit the edge of the target.

"_Now_ I'm depressed," Bearskin groaned as she stepped forward to retrieve the arrows.

Yuki gave her a startled glance. "But why? I hit the target, barely."

"That's my point. You're already better with a bow and arrow than I've ever been."

The pale young woman blushed at the compliment and started staring at her new moccasins. "Father would die of shock if he heard you say that."

Bearskin fought back the evil smirk that wanted to cross her lips. "I'll be sure to tell him if we ever meet, then." She pulled the last arrow from the ground and walked back to her pupil. "This time, you shoot all of them. You'll have to have a pretty good aim to take down game or defend yourself in a hurry."

Yuki nodded as she took one of the arrows. Taking a stance like what Bearskin had shown her, she pulled back the string and aimed very carefully.

The arrow flew out from the bow to shoot just left of the middle of the target. The second one was just above it. The third one hit the middle, and the fourth one was just off by a few hairs.

"Yep. I'm nice and depressed now," Bearskin concluded sadly.

"Oh, I didn't mean it," Yuki tried to apologize, but the trapper waved a hand to soothe her.

"Don't worry about it, my friend. I didn't enjoy archery, anyway. Consider the bow and arrows yours."

"… Really?" she asked, a glow shining through her distress. It was clear that she enjoyed archery very much.

"Really. I'll show you how to carve more arrows tonight after supper. That much, I can teach you."

"… Would it be too much trouble to ask for something other than stew?" Yuki couldn't keep herself from asking. She was starting to yearn for a meal that wasn't swimming in its own juices.

"If you feel like cooking, absolutely. But I'm afraid that's all I can cook without destroying the food in the process."

"But what about the two cookbooks you gave me?" Yuki asked while pulling _her_ arrows out of the target Bearskin had woven out of dry grasses.

"I am hoping that you make as much use of them as you do of the bow. They're worthless to me, no matter what I try."

"Then how do you get bread and such? I heard once that just eating meat makes you sick."

"It does, _believe me_. I usually trade my skins and extra meat for food I can't make on my own, as well as whatever else I need. Sometimes I eat at taverns for a taste of the local food, but I try to avoid doing that too much."

"Why? What's wrong with taverns?" Yuki asked, since she usually viewed them as cozy homes away from home.

"Tavern wenches," Bearskin replied shortly, looking away from her pupil to stare at a tree.

Baron was resting at the base of it. But at the phrase 'tavern wenches', he lifted his head to stare at her in horror.

"…Wait…" Yuki said slowly. "You mean they…?"

"Make inappropriate suggestions and advances," Bearskin snarled under her breath. "It grows old quickly." _'I still don't understand why they bother with a cursed man that keeps turning them down.'_

There was silence for a few seconds. Then a strangled sound came out of the blonde girl.

Recognizing the sound, the trapper looked over at her with a glare. "Don't you dare," she warned, but it was already too late.

Yuki started laughing, leaning against a tree to keep her balance.

"It's not funny!" Bearskin protested, but that just made the girl laugh even harder.

ooOoo

Yuki started retching, keeping one hand to her mouth.

Bearskin looked at her coolly and stopped cutting the deer's stomach. "If you don't want to come in contact with other people, you'll need to know this. We'll continue when you're under control."

"H-How can you _stand _that?" the blonde girl demanded through another gag, turning her face away from the gory sight.

"I've been doing this since I was seven; you grow used to it. Remember, unless you're willing to learn how to do this, you'll have to be seen in town every now and again, at least." _'I'm not all that surprised Baron chose to stay behind for this lesson. His stomach's weaker than hers is.'_

"Frankly, I'm willing to take that chance! I… I don't mean to offend, but… I can't do this," she sobbed into her hands. "Killing… cutting… I _can't_."

Bearskin looked at her sadly. "Very well. Head back to the hut while I think of something else you can do to earn bread."

Yuki nodded, still not looking at her as she stood up and started running back to her little home.

The trapper sighed and resumed cutting the deer's belly. "She didn't even last long enough to see any organs."

ooOoo

"This will work?" Yuki asked nervously as Bearskin stirred her little pot.

"Positive. I sometimes do this for some of the moccasins I make- Baron! Be careful, I like your fur just the way it is," she sharply ordered when her cat made to put his paws on the small cauldron to look within.

Not that there was much to see. It only looked like black ink. He hopped back with a sullen mew.

"All right, do you think you're ready for the next step? It's cool enough," Bearskin said over her shoulder.

Yuki took in a deep breath, wearing only the thin dress the trapper had found her in. "I think so. But won't people notice the color in my scalp?"

"Not if I'm careful, they won't. Put your head on my lap, because this is going to take a while."

Her apprentice nodded and placed her head on Bearskin's lap like a child.

"Turn on your side a bit," she coaxed while taking out the wooden comb from her satchel. She dipped the teeth of it into the black ink she made and started running it through Yuki's long blonde hair. There were immediate streaks, which became more rampant every time Bearskin swished the comb through the ink again.

The girl sighed in contentment. "This feels nice."

The trapper stiffened slightly, worrying that Yuki was going to start flirting. But no, she was perfectly content just to have her long hair combed. Even after all of her hair was as black as night, Bearskin kept combing in case the dye tried to clump up in obvious chunks.

"Your eyebrows will be harder to do, but I think we'll still manage it. Now you can go ahead and even find a job in town if you want."

"No. I like being out here. I think I'll use the books you gave me to make ointments and such to sell. Having green hands isn't so bad."

Bearskin beamed at her apprentice, and resisted the urge to kiss her hair. That was a feminine gesture and the ink was still wet.

ooOoo

"Must you leave, Bearskin?" Yuki asked sadly, one cold morning as a light snow began to fall.

"I'm afraid it has to happen sooner or later. I don't want to be cursed forever. You'll be just fine, my friend," the trapper consoled, although deep down, she really did want to stay.

Yuki was the kind of person that made her want to be Haru again.

Baron rubbed against one of the girl's legs while purring affectionately, but then padded past the two, towards the woods. He looked over one shoulder calmly, almost like he was expecting one of them to follow.

"Yes, I know," Bearskin told him, not quite ready to leave yet. She looked at Yuki, giving the girl another guarded smile as she fished around her satchel. "There's one more thing I want to give you before we leave."

"After all you've already given me?" Yuki asked incredulously. "You even gave me your cooking pot."

"I can get a new one easier than you can." Still smiling, she grabbed the girl's hand and placed the wooden comb in it. "This comb has served me well since leaving the Northern Lands. I hope it serves you just as well."

The teeth of it were stained black like her hair, but Yuki nonetheless held the trinket to her heart. "I'll treasure it. Thank you, Bearskin. For everything." Without warning, she lunged forward for another hug.

Still feeling a bit nervous about this much affection, Bearskin hesitantly wrapped her arms around her ex-pupil. She was careful about the pressure, although inexplicably reminded of the first time she shook Machida's hand.

"I'll keep your secret, Bearskin," Yuki whispered into one ear.

"My secret?"

"Yes. No one will even know we've met, I promise."

"_Secret?_" she asked incredulously.

Yuki smirked a bit more evilly than the trapper thought she was capable of. "You don't do the voice when you're falling asleep or just waking up. I bet that's another reason you avoid taverns."

Bearskin gaped in shock. "Dang it," she muttered under her breath. "I forgot that's partially why I move around so much."

"Good plan. I'll keep my promise, though," Yuki informed her with a smile. "No one will know we've met."

"Thanks," the trapper replied with a more relaxed smile. She gave the girl another squeeze and forced herself to walk away. "May good fortune fall to you."

"To you, as well," Yuki bid her sadly. "I hope you find the cure soon."

"Thanks," Bearskin repeated, forcing herself to walk into the trees with Baron. _'She knew I was a girl, but still liked me?'_

"Meow?" her little cat asked worriedly, pawing at one of her pant legs as they strolled through the softly falling snow.

"… This isn't good," Bearskin concluded sadly. "I've been letting myself get too happy."

"_Meow_?" Baron asked incredulously.

"The happier I am, the more obvious it is that I'm a girl," she summarized with a sigh. "I hate it, but that's the way it is."

He gave her a sad look and managed to run his body over one leg while she was still walking.

"… Would you have rather stayed with Yuki?" she asked hesitantly.

Baron shook his head while giving her an affectionate smile.

"I'm glad," she sighed, pausing long enough to brush a gloved hand over his back. "What do you say we go to Thegui instead of Alsdea so we don't have to deal with Yuki's father or her suitor?"

Her tawny cat grinned and took off running as fast as he could.

Biting back a laugh, Bearskin gave pursuit. _'I know I should make him stay with Yuki, but… I miss being happy. I can be a little happy and still be Bearskin, can't I?'_


	12. No One's Definition

**Chapter Twelve: No One's Definition**

_Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself._

_-Harvey Fierstein_

xxXxx

Baron pressed his body against Bearskin's neck, clearly grateful for the shelter he was getting from the gentle snow fall. The trapper in turn tugged on her hood to be sure that both of them were covered.

"This is practically summer, where I'm from," she informed him with her man voice, since they were nearing another village. "I think I can only remember it getting this warm only twice up in the Northern Lands."

Baron gave a polite meow, but snuggled against her neck even tighter. It was clear that he wasn't as used to the cold as she was.

Bearskin didn't have as much game as she usually did, but that was mostly due to how much she had given Yuki to be sure that she would be warm for the winter. But the trapper wasn't worried since she had gold aplenty when the hunting was scarce.

Two village children looked up at seeing her, one of them gasping. "Bearskin! Look, it's really Bearskin!"

"Hello to you, too," the cursed woman replied, nodding her head politely as she passed. "Stay warm, small one."

"Okay!" the little girl giggled, running into her house for some inexplicable reason.

"Hey, wait for me!" her companion called, his short legs moving much slower than the girl's had.

Bearskin had to fight back a giggle. _'Ah, to be an innocent child. It never lasts long enough.' _Her black eyes carefully looked over the buildings, trying to guess which one was a trading post. The one a block away looked promising, but it was hard to tell from this far away.

"_**Bearskin**_?" a voice cried out, making her turn around in surprise.

It was a young man, perhaps her own age, with vibrant red hair peaking from under his thick woolen hat.

"Bearskin? Thank heaven, it really is you!" the young man exclaimed excitedly as he ran up to her. "Are you open for a quick job?"

"I usually am. What seems to be the trouble?"

"It's… well, I can't really say out in public," he said after hesitating. He looked around the square nervously and rubbed one arm. "Would you mind coming to my home? My father has more details than I do and you'll need to know everything possible."

"Lead the way," she encouraged gruffly, adjusting the hold on her bag a bit as Baron shifted around on her shoulders.

"Thank you. Um… aren't all animals supposed to fear you?" he asked curiously while staring at the tawny cat.

"Usually yes, but this one's decided I'm not so bad," Bearskin answered truthfully, although she wasn't really sure what more there was to say.

Baron obligingly purred and rubbed his face against one pale cheek.

The young man gave her a strange look, but gestured for the cursed trapper to follow him. "Strange, that he isn't white like you."

Bearskin bit back a laugh. "That happens to my clothes and such, not to living creatures. If it did, I assure you I wouldn't be the only one this white."

He laughed nervously, still keeping an eye on the cat. "I bet you wouldn't be. Home is just this way."

The cursed woman followed him, wondering what kind of help he needed. What could be bad enough for him to not want to mention it in public? Most people couldn't seem to wait to tell anyone and everyone that they had gotten help from her.

It had to be serious. Oh well, this town didn't look like it was close to a capital. The problem couldn't be another political knot, she _hated _those. It was too hard to figure out who was right or wrong or even both.

The young man led her just outside of town, to a small but cozy-looking cottage close to the woods. He eagerly opened the door to let the trapper in. "Father! Father, you won't have to die after all!"

"What are you blithering about, Jacques?" a female voice asked waspishly from another room.

"Bearskin's here, he can help us!" Jacques answered, grinning like a child as he urged the trapper to follow him into the main room.

Knowing that the hood was a bit intimidating, Bearskin pulled it down as Baron stretched thankfully.

An old man was sitting next to a fireplace, one daughter at his feet and changing out bandages on one leg. It was clear that the man had narrowly escaped a dangerous encounter with… wolves, Bearskin was almost certain as Baron made a slight retching sound. He looked up tiredly and gasped in shock as his daughter did the same.

The trapper stepped closer and pulled a jar of healing ointment out of her satchel. "Try rubbing this into the wounds. It lessens the pain as well as prevents infection," she grunted in her man voice.

The daughter nodded numbly as she accepted the jar. "Thank you, Bearskin. I… have to confess, I thought you were a myth."

"Clearly I am not. Now, what seems to be the trouble other than your leg, sir?" she asked politely while rubbing Baron's back with one hand.

The man was still staring at the trapper, completely speechless as he studied her.

"Father, tell him what happened last week," Jacques begged as he knelt next to the chair. "I bet he could kill **him**."

Bearskin tensed defensively as Baron seemed to do the same around her neck. "I don't kill unless I have to," she said flatly. "You'd best talk fast if you want to say your piece." One heel turned to hint at a speedy departure.

"No… stay, please," the father begged, finally breaking free from his silent spell. "Take a seat, Bearskin. It's a bit of a long story… ahh, that feels wonderful," he couldn't keep from sighing as his daughter started rubbing the green stuff into his leg.

The trapper gently scooted a chair closer to the fire before sitting on it, setting her bag to the side. Her cat immediately abandoned her shoulders for her lap, sitting up straight like a gentleman. She ran her gloved hands over the fur as she kept her gaze on the old man.

"I used to be a prosperous merchant," he began as his eyes seemed to fade from memories. "Everything was as close to perfect as you could possibly imagine. My ships were the finest in the dock, success poured in wherever I stepped. I was also blessed with three of the most wonderful children an old man could ask for." He took a second to gaze at his son and daughter fondly.

"I assume the third one is about?" Bearskin asked politely.

"Oh no, Belle is at work at one of the taverns," the daughter responded as she started wrapping her father's leg in a fresh bandage. "We've been switching off staying home with Father since he came back."

"But that is getting ahead of the story," her father reminded her as melancholy took over. "About a year ago, I invested heavily in a voyage that never made it back to port. We heard later that pirates had ravaged the ones that managed to escape cyclones. It took almost my entire fortune to pay back my debtors, since I was convinced that the voyage would double our wealth. As you can tell, I have since left being a merchant behind and moved out here with my family with the little money we had left. It hasn't been easy on any of us, but we have managed to make do."

"Being angry and sullen got boring quickly," the daughter added with a small smile. "Besides, at least the men around here are more honest than in the capital."

"Not that it took much," Jacques muttered under his breath.

The father laughed as Bearskin felt a brief flinch of guilt. "That they are. Well, about three months ago, I received a letter from one of my old colleagues. It said one of my ships made it back after all and I could start rebuilding what we once had. But by then we preferred living here, so I only hoped to wrap up some loose ends and put a bit of money aside for my daughters' dowries."

The girl at his feet blushed, but only a little bit before looking haunted. "Before we lost everything, it was a tradition for Father to bring us back a gift when he left on a trip. It was meant as a reward for behaving ourselves while he's gone."

"Adele here asked for some cloth for a new dress, and I asked for new boots since my old ones were wearing out." Jacques briefly held up a foot for the trapper's inspection. "Belle asked for a rose or even some seeds, so that we could have some roses of our own."

The old man glared up at the mantle, making Bearskin follow his gaze. A beautiful red rose was sitting in a simple ceramic mug over the fire.

"The cloth and boots were easy enough, but we had all forgotten that it was the wrong season for roses. I looked everywhere, I truly did, but none were to be had anywhere."

Bearskin quirked an eyebrow at him, a bit confused to be seeing a flower when there was so much snow outside. "Or so you thought."

"Or so I thought," the man sighed regretfully. "After a while, I had to start home, but I was so guilty over having something for Jacques and Adele, but nothing for Belle. I knew she wouldn't care, but it mattered to me. Oh, how I wish I had left it at that and gotten her something else!"

"What is so terrible about the rose?" Bearskin pressed as Baron leaned in slightly to share her body heat with himself.

"I'm getting to that. As you can probably tell from my leg, I got attacked by a pack of wolves while in the forest just outside our home. I know I should have stayed with the regular road, but I was eager to be with my family again. I blacked out after one of them gnawed on my leg, so I'm not quite sure what happened after that. But when I eventually woke up, I was in a beautiful room, unlike any I had ever seen before."

Baron mewed in incredulous confusion.

"I'm with my cat on this one. Where would you find a room like that around here?"

The old man shuddered in guilt. "The reason everyone avoids the forest is because it's cursed. Strange things happen to one who wanders in. I should have paid more heed. But when I woke up, my leg was bandaged up quite well and a crutch had been left next to the bed so that I could still move around. Whoever it was had even left enough food on a breakfast tray for me for breakfast and an easy lunch on the road." He shook his head in disbelief. "After I managed to limp out of the castle, I found a new steed with my bags slung over him, so it was obvious that he was meant for me. The castle was _enormous_, Bearskin, but I hadn't seen a soul I could express my gratitude to. I left a note in the main hall, since it seemed like the best thing to do. But in order to leave the place, I had to walk through the gardens."

Bearskin's ears twitched. "It's the beginning of winter."

He nodded wearily. "_Believe me_, I know. It was the strangest thing; outside of the gates, you could clearly see snow falling, but within the gates, it was as warm as summer. It was almost like being in another world."

'_Magic.'_ Bearskin suppressed a shudder.

He looked down in shame. "It's such a little thing, a rose. The gardens literally had thousands, if not millions of them. I thought no one would notice the difference if one went missing."

The trapper's blood ran cold. "It is dangerous to make assumptions like that. Who caught you?"

"… He said to call him Beast," the man said after closing his eyes in pain. "No name could suit him better."

Bearskin crossed her arms to glare at him. "Is he the one you wish me to kill?"

"Please, you don't know all," Adele pleaded with her. "He's not human; he's ten feet tall and uglier than a wolf. Father says he's twice as hairy as a wolf, too."

The trapper cocked an eyebrow at the man. "You are trying to say that the one you want me to kill is a large beast that's in charge of an even larger castle in the woods and can speak a human tongue?"

"That's right. In return for the stolen rose, Father must return to him within two weeks of coming home and there are only two days left. He means to kill him," Jacques finished, getting down on his knees in a begging position. "Please. We can't lose our father."

Bearskin stared at the small family, her own emotions strongly conflicted. "What would you have me do?" she asked formally. "Kill one who comes to the aid of others? He could have saved himself a lot of trouble by ignoring your father."

"But… but he means to kill!" Adele protested.

"Yet he still allowed him to return home to say goodbye. That was a gesture of mercy, confidence, perhaps even both, but he didn't have to do that. He could have just killed him then and be done with it."

"… You're not going to help, are you?" the father asked sickly.

"What would you have me do?" Bearskin repeated, although her heart was turning sick. _'I want to help, but what can I do without bending my principals?'_

None of the three could answer her. Even Baron was being unusually silent, but she wasn't looking at him right now.

Bearskin stood up, now holding Baron in one arm as she grabbed her bag. "If I were you, I'd offer to become his servant instead. Even if he doesn't need one, he sounds like the type to negotiate, if he was willing to let you see your family once more."

"…_Servant_? To a _monster_?" Jacques demanded angrily. "Is that the best you can think of?"

"If he's such a monster, he would have killed your father before now. Offer to be his servant for the rest of your days and he may reconsider completely."

The old man's jaw stiffened angrily. "Thank you for your time, Bearskin. But I think you should leave."

"Agreed," she replied, taking the time to give them a slight bow before following Jacques out of the room and to the front door.

"I'm really disappointed. I didn't think you were this cowardly," the young man snarled, holding the door open for the trapper.

Bearskin looked at him coolly and put down her bag to unhook one of her daggers from a pant leg. Baron meowed worriedly, but she rocked him gently to keep him calm.

"Now, now wait," he said while nervously backing away, but then she offered the blade to him.

"You have a choice as well, Jacques. If you want him dead that much, do it yourself. But I will not raise my hand against someone who repeatedly shows mercy to the weak."

He wouldn't come closer, but he flinched at her words as if they were rocks.

She cast the dagger at his feet, grabbed her bag and closed the door after herself.

ooOoo

Baron was still silent hours later, once she was done bargaining with the owner of the trade post. She looked down at him as her feet led her down the street, but he wasn't looking at her. Even his body wasn't pressed as hard around her neck as it had been earlier.

The trapper sighed tiredly. "What did you want me to do, Baron?" she whispered to him, still using her man voice. "Technically, he has every right to at least punish him for thievery, no matter what he looks like."

Baron meowed in a low tone, one that sounded strangely like a counter-argument.

"Okay, maybe he was being a bit extreme, but still! I've met lords who kill on the spot for offenses smaller than stealing a flower. I still think he was showing mercy to the man."

Baron emitted a low growl and butted his nose against her neck.

She reached up and ran her gloved fingers over his back. "Baron… I hate being at odds with you. But there's nothing I can do in a situation like that."

He growled again, but it sounded a bit more depressed than usual.

"… You know, I'm not all that interested in cooking today. Does that tavern look promising?" She tilted her head at one loud building as the horses outside whinnied in terror at her approach.

He looked at the tavern and gave a half-hearted meow that seemed to be more like a sigh.

"I know. I'm not hungry either. But I know better than to skip on dinner and I bet you'd like something other than soup for once," she reasoned while stepping closer to the tavern.

The horses trembled and strained against their ropes, but Bearskin ignored them as she let herself in.

An older man behind the desk looked up and gasped at her approach. "Unbelievable!"

"Greetings, innkeeper," she replied politely, since she was used to people reacting like that. "Would there happen to be room at your tables for two weary travelers?"

"O-Of course, Bearskin. Where is the other traveler?"

She merely gestured at Baron, still draped around her neck. "We wish for a warm meal and we'll be on our way."

He stared at her and then at her cat. "… We have room for you, and I'd make room if we didn't, but… I'm afraid we don't allow pets inside the dining hall," the tavern keeper said hesitantly while giving Baron a disdainful look.

Her cat stiffened before giving a sad meow.

Bearskin's blood began boiling. "That's perfectly fine," she decided to say instead, keeping her tone pleasant. "Would you then be kind enough to tell me which tavern will allow my cat to eat with me?"

He gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

"If this dining hall is too good for my cat, then it is obviously too good for me as well. Another tavern, good sir?" she asked again, her tone firm.

"I-It's not that, good Bearskin," the man tried to reason. "It's simply that pets cause trouble and no one wants to eat off a plate after an animal does."

She tilted her head at him with a small veiled smile. "Is that all? My cat happens to have manners that put a lord's to shame and I'm willing to buy whatever dishes he uses. I forgot to get him his own plate at the trading post anyway."

The innkeeper stared at her. "This is most irregular."

"Can't you say the same for having a cursed trapper stop by?" she reasoned gruffly, starting to lose her patience. "Baron's manners are better than mine; you have my word on it."

He mewed indignantly and began rubbing one cheek against hers.

The man looked between them again and sighed as he eased from behind the counter. "I'll show you to your table then. But I hope you're not exaggerating about your cat."

"I never exaggerate." _'Lie, yes. Mislead, absolutely. But I don't exaggerate.'_

"I assume that you would prefer a quiet meal with little distraction?" he asked over one shoulder.

"We would appreciate that, yes," Bearskin confessed as he led her past the main hall and around a corner. A simple table was waiting, although it was a bit bigger than the ones in the main hall.

"This area's usually for traveling companies, but you'll be left alone back here. May I suggest the bouillinade?"

"What's that?" she asked as Baron meowed enthusiastically.

"It's a traditional recipe made from fish and potatoes."

"Oh. We'll take two plates of that, along with a glass and bowl of milk. How much would that be if I bought a plate and the bowl?" the trapper asked while setting down her large bag.

"A silver piece should cover it. Are you certain you won't wish for a room for the night?"

"Certain enough, but thank you for asking," she replied while handing him the money.

He pocketed it while walking around the corner again. "Your food should come in a few minutes."

"Sounds nice," Bearskin sighed, easing Baron off of her neck and setting him on one of the chairs. "Sorry about that, my friend. That really is a silly rule."

He looked up at her, his eyes warm and almost liquid.

Bearskin took the seat right next to him, neatly tucking in her cloak. "I've seen tons of humans that eat sloppier than you, but I bet _they _would have been allowed to eat here without a fuss."

Baron gave her a warm look and stood on his hind feet to balance on one of her arms. He rubbed one cheek against hers and licked her face affectionately.

"What was _that _for?" she asked curiously, but he only purred at her as he resumed his seat.

A few minutes ticked by. The murmuring from the main room continued like a current, but Bearskin wasn't listening to them. Instead, she had taken off a glove to gently scratch Baron's ears and back. He purred happily from the attention, even abandoning his seat in favor of her lap.

A small smile tugged on the sides of her mouth, but she had to fight against it in order to remain in character. _'Why can't everyone accept me the way you do, Baron? I'd have been cured years ago if they were like you.'_

Someone stepped into the closed off space, but then stopped cold at the entryway. Both trapper and cat looked up to see who it was. A very beautiful tavern wench was staring at her, her lavender eyes wide and timid. In her hands was the food the trapper had ordered.

"Would that be for us?" the cursed woman asked gruffly as Baron hopped back into his seat. She didn't want to give the girl a reason to flirt with her.

The young woman shook herself guiltily. "H-Here is your order, Mr. Bearskin," she said while setting the platter on the table. "I'm sorry, I thought Pierre was joking about you being here."

"It would appear not." Bearskin thanked her with a nod and set one of the wooden plates in front of Baron, as well as a bowl of milk. She pulled on her glove to start eating.

Her cat mewed in gratitude and began delicately eating. But the angle of his body wasn't good enough to get at everything on the plate, let alone the bowl of milk. He eventually hopped onto the table, but kept to himself as he enjoyed his supper.

"Well! His manners really are like a lord's," the girl said numbly, holding the platter against her chest.

"I wouldn't have said they were if they weren't," Bearskin replied politely, although her skin was starting to crawl under her thick cloak as she sipped her milk. _'Please go. I'm not in the mood to deal with tavern wenches.'_

"Um… Bearskin," the girl said nervously. "Do you have time for a really short trip? I don't have a lot, but I'm willing to pay."

The trapper looked at her wearily and set down her fork for now. "What did you have in mind, young lady?"

"Well… it's a strange story, I can't really say out in public," the girl admitted, looking at the entryway nervously. "My father got into a bit of trouble, and-"

Bearskin's head snapped upward as her cat's did the same.

The girl looked slightly similar to Adele.

"Are you Belle?" she asked flat out.

She gaped at her. "Did my father already hire you?"

The pale woman grunted in disgust. "He tried to, but I didn't care for the ethics. Even a… someone like _him_ deserves courtesy, especially after what he did for your father."

"I agree completely, sir." Belle took in a deep breath for courage. "It was my fault Father stole from him. I was the one foolish enough to ask for a rose so close to winter. I tried talking him into letting me take his place in two days, but no one in my family was willing to listen."

Bearskin cocked her head at her, although her blood was running cold. "You sound like you want me to take you to him."

"I do. I mean, I was planning on going without Father's consent anyway, but I'm scared of the forest. I have twenty brass pieces to pay you for your trouble." The girl's tone was nearly begging.

Bearskin laced her gloved fingers together, and held them to her chin as she studied the girl. "You are aware that he could decide to kill you instead of your father?"

Belle nodded firmly. Her lavender eyes were scared, but determined. "It was my fault. _I _should be punished."

"_This is your punishment, human,"_ Ukima's voice hissed in her ear, making the trapper suppress a shudder.

"Continue in your duties, Belle. When it's time to return home, tell your family you love them. I'll come after midnight for you and we'll go to him."

The young woman sighed deeply with relief and curtsied deeply before leaving. "_Thank you_."

Baron meowed in shock after the girl left.

"Well, at least she came up with a solution!" Bearskin defended in a low tone as she returned to her supper.

He kept meowing at her in distress, even abandoning his food to place his paws against one arm in a pleading position.

Bearskin set her fork down and cupped his face in one gloved hand. "What would you have me do?" she whispered, still using her man voice. "I will not kill _him_ and I doubt her father would have accepted an offer for me to escort him instead. I want to help and this is the only way I can."

Baron closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Then he started meowing again, very slowly as if speaking to a child with a slow attention span.

The trapper sighed in agony. "You know, if I had just one wish, I'd wish to understand you before asking for a cure."

The tawny cat gave out a groan that was almost certainly an agreement.

ooOoo

Belle had been hearing rumors all day that the famed Bearskin had come to town. But even if she hadn't been so distracted with her father's predicament, she probably wouldn't have clamored with the other girls she worked with for the chance to personally serve the legendary trapper, since he apparently wished to be left alone.

Pierre had chosen her because she was possibly the most sensible girl who worked there. Unlike most of the other girls, Belle never threw herself at the patrons, although she sometimes had trouble with beating them away.

That was one of the reasons dear Jacques always insisted on walking his sister home. Although he wasn't much of a fighter, he looked like one and that was often enough to keep her safe on the roads at night.

Belle pulled an unladylike face that had gotten her scolded more than once in her life back at the city. What was so great about being beautiful, anyway? All she had ever gotten out of it was unwanted attention in varying degrees and a bunch of friends that turned their back on her as soon as her father lost his fortune at sea. _If _one could even call them friends.

She tightened her hood a bit to keep her long red locks under control. About the only ones back in the city that wanted anything to do with her after things went sour were various rich men more than twice her age. If she were plain, she wouldn't have even have had that. Just what made beauty so important, anyway?

"Belle?" Jacques asked as he walked through the door of the tavern. "Are you ready, Belle?"

Her head snapped up, making her laugh a little sheepishly. "I'm over here, brother."

He attempted a smile for her and numbly offered one arm. He usually did it in a joking manner, but he hadn't been in a humorous mood since Father came home.

Belle linked her arm in his and held it close as they walked out of the tavern and down the familiar road. _'This is the last time Jacques will walk me home.' _"I hear Bearskin was in town," she said hesitantly.

Jacques grunted, but was otherwise silent.

"Did you get to see him? I've been in the tavern all day."

"… Yeah. I saw him."

"What did he look like?" she asked, making sure that he wouldn't suspect what she was planning.

"White. What else would he look like?" he asked sarcastically.

"Oh come now, there must be more than that-"

"Belle!" he snapped. "I don't want to talk about Bearskin! People talk too much about him."

"With good reason. What do you have against Bearskin? Did you talk to him at all?"

Jacques' mouth stiffened. "… Yes. He gave me some advice on how to deal with Father's… well, _him_."

"What did he say?" she asked worriedly, but he shook his head.

"Nothing for you to worry over, Belle. Father will be safe, one way or another."

Rarely had her big brother ever taken that serious tone.

"Jacques?" she asked worriedly.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," he insisted again, his grip on her arm turning fierce from nerves.

ooOoo

_Dear Father, Jacques, and Adele._

_By the time you read this, I will be long gone. I love you all so very much, but this is how it should have been from the beginning. It was __**my **__foolish request that started this mess, so it is __**my **__responsibility to clean it up._

_Please think kindly of me and remember the good times._

_Love,_

_Belle_

She couldn't think of anything else to say, so she used the melting wax from her candle to seal the paper shut.

Belle considered putting it on her pillow immediately, but decided against it. Her sister barged in all the time and she didn't want her plan to fail before it was set in motion.

The slim beauty instead set the letter under her bed to allow for the wax to cool and checked over her room one more time.

It was neater than it had been in a while. Adele was always getting on her to clean her room, but who could think of more work after a long and exhausting day avoiding advances at the tavern?

At least _Bearskin _didn't ask for 'additional services'. It was a refreshing change, even though she knew the trapper never pursued women.

It was still another hour until midnight. A drink of water would help at least pass the time.

She slipped out of her small room and started walking down the hallway as silently as possible.

Adele's door flew open, making the girl jump back in shock and choke back a scream.

"Just _where _do you think you're going?" her big sister demanded.

"K-Kitchen," Belle gasped. "Thirsty." _'Not caught! This doesn't count as caught!'_

Adele gave her a suspicious look, but walked out of her room. "Then I'm thirsty too. Come along."

Belle nodded, but made a sour face at her sister's back. _'This is no good. How am I supposed to sneak out to meet Bearskin if she's staying up too?'_

Adele kept a close eye on her as they both sipped water from wooden cups and walked back to the stairs.

"I believe your room is right here," Belle noted with a stiff smile as her sister continued to follow her.

"I just want to make sure you're not trying to sneak off to meet some boy, _or worse_," she hissed in a hard tone as they approached Belle's door.

'_How about doing both?' _"You worry too much, Adele. Even if you know I'm right about Father's-"

"You are not! Besides, Jacques… well, he's going to take care of it."

"What is he going to do?" Belle begged again. "It's not fair to keep me in the dark like a child."

Adele smirked sadly. "Life isn't fair, either. Sweet dreams."

Taking the chance she knew would never come again, Belle stole one more hug from her big sister. "Sweet dreams, you paranoid person. I love you."

"I love you too, you stubborn little troublemaker," Adele laughed, kissing her hair like Mother used to do. "Remember not to get ideas. Father will be listening for you tomorrow night."

'_I rather doubt that.' _"Meanie," Belle retorted while sticking out her tongue and slipping through her door.

She didn't want Adele to see that she had been cleaning her room. That would have been a major red flag that she was planning an escape.

Then again… Adele wouldn't have caught her if she didn't already suspect something. How was she going to get out and meet Bearskin if her big sister was ready and waiting to interfere?

She wrapped her long purple cloak over her back and clasped it tight before placing her letter on the pillow, now that it was obvious that she would be left alone if she stayed in her room.

Belle kneeled in front of her window and prayed that Bearskin would find a way around this.


	13. Greatness

**Chapter Thirteen: Greatness**

_Greatness lies not in being strong, but in the right use of strength._

_-Henry Ward Beecher_

xxXxx

Bearskin waited in the shadows of the edge of the forest close to Belle's home. Baron was still mewing sullenly in one ear.

"I'm sorry, my friend. But this needs to be done." She checked the moon's position in the sky, certain that it was now long after midnight.

Where was Belle? Surely she couldn't have fallen asleep.

The cursed trapper bit her lip nervously and eased a little closer to the girl's home. The moon was a mere sliver in the sky, but there was definitely enough light to announce her presence if anyone looked out their window.

She bit back a sad grimace; her very curse was begging for her to get caught on one of these nightly excursions.

Almost to confirm the thought, a window of the house creaked open on the second floor. Bearskin looked up with alarm, but was relieved to only see Belle.

The beautiful girl was mouthing something to her, but the cursed trapper had never been good at reading lips.

"_Come down_," she mouthed, beckoning for the girl to leave her home.

Belle gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head slowly. Again she mouthed something, but the pale woman still couldn't understand.

However, there was something a trifle smug in Baron's meow as he spoke into one ear.

"Shh, I'm trying to think," she whispered to him before nibbling on her lower lip. _'Belle doesn't look like she changed her mind. Hmm… why won't she come down?'_

Then again… Bearskin had never tried to sneak out of a house before. How easy was it, especially with a family?

In a heartbeat, she knew what to do. She stepped even closer to the house and gently eased Baron from her neck to pull down her hood. "Stay in there," she whispered while urging him to crawl into the lowered hood.

He did as he was told, but gave a confused meow.

Bearskin looked up at the girl and held her arms ready. "_Jump_," she mouthed, since the girl could apparently read lips.

Belle gaped at her in shock.

"_Trust me_," the trapper coaxed, doing everything in her power to keep her gaze warm and steady.

Belle chewed on her lip nervously and used her hand to brush her long autumn-colored hair from her face. But she took a deep breath for courage while easing her legs onto the windowsill. The wood creaked slightly, but on a night as silent as this, it might as well have been thunder.

"_Hurry_," Bearskin urged, not wanting her family to catch them. Sure, there was no way they'd be able to actually hurt her, but-

The windowsill broke from Belle's weight, sending the girl over the edge with a scream.

The trapper was able to catch her, but now there were other voices in the house.

"Belle? _Belle_!" Adele screamed in horror as she stormed into the room Belle had been in.

The pale trapper didn't wait for an invitation. "Hang on," she whispered, turning on her heel in order to run into the woods as fast as possible with Belle still in her arms.

"_Bearskin!_" Adele shrieked furiously as their silhouettes disappeared into the forest.

Baron meowed indignantly as he flopped around inside her hood, but the trapper didn't dare slow down for an hour.

Once they were good and lost in the woods, Bearskin finally set Belle down. "I-I'll be taking a breather now," she managed to gasp in her man voice.

"You've definitely earned it," the girl replied numbly, taking a few steps to stand in the moonlight. "Not even horses run as fast as you do."

She managed a weak smile from the compliment, but leaned against a tree to help keep her balance.

Baron shakily climbed out of her hood and hopped to the ground, almost falling over in the process. His meows seemed somewhat accusatory as he scolded the trapper.

"Sorry, Baron. That was the best I could think of." Bearskin closed her eyes and took in a few more moments of rest. "I don't suppose your father told you where the Beast's castle was?"

Belle stiffened in horror. "I thought he told _you_!"

Bearskin looked up at her, but sighed. She pulled out a map she had just gotten at the trading post in order to look at it. "This forest is about forty leagues big. We have a whole day before the two weeks are up. If you don't object to me occasionally carrying you, we'll find his castle, one way or another."

Belle stared at her, still biting her lip nervously. "No, I don't mind. But won't that be hard on you?"

She waved the girl's worries away with one gloved hand. "I can rest up afterward. Right now, we've got to focus on your problem. Let's walk for a while, my legs are still a bit sore."

Belle nodded, although she looked a bit worried. "But what if Jacques gets there before us?"

Bearskin sighed sadly as Baron started walking on the other side of her. "We won't be able to do a thing if he gets there first. Pray that we find it before him."

"What did you tell him? No one was willing to tell me what advice you gave him," she added with a small childish pout.

"I told him that if he wants Beast dead so much, he should do it himself. I even gave him one of my knives, but that was because he called me a coward for refusing the job."

Belle's mouth opened in horror. "Jacques can't fight. He's never done it in his life."

"Then let's pray we get there first," Bearskin answered grimly while sneaking another look at her map. "What was the name of the city your father visited?"

"Guilash, the capital of Thegui."

"Then it's reasonable to think that the castle's somewhere along this strip of forest, between your village and the capital," Bearskin concluded, following the distance on the map with her fingers. "Since that area borders the usual road, we can work our way outward if we need to."

Baron meowed approvingly at the plan.

She folded the map back into her satchel, but kept her black eyes on the overshadowing trees. "Animals don't really like me, so we should also be safe from wolf attacks or whatever else is in these woods."

"… If animals hate you," Belle said slowly. "How is it you have a cat?"

"To be honest, I'm still not sure why Baron puts up with me," Bearskin admitted, giving the feline a fond look. "I'm just grateful that he does."

He gave her a glare with a frustrated meow. But he still managed to rub his body against one leg while they were walking.

Bearskin smiled down at him… but then froze fast. "Oh no."

"What is it?" Belle asked worriedly.

"Idiot, moron, stupid," the trapper started swearing at herself as her eyes frantically looked at the trees. "How could I have forgotten?"

"Forgotten what?"

"Our tracks. The snow gives them away," Bearskin explained while selecting two large branches to tear off a pair of trees. "Jacques won't have to look if he follows our tracks to Beast's castle."

Belle inhaled sharply from fear, but took the branch from the trapper.

"Do as I do," the pale woman instructed, walking backwards while brushing out her tracks. "It's not perfect, but it will have to do. Baron, keep close."

"How long will we have to do this?" the redhead asked while mimicking the movements.

"A mile, at least. That should throw off anyone tracking us long enough to delay followers. Your father mentioned a large gate; if we can get you inside them before anyone catches us, I'm pretty sure we can count on Beast to keep unwanted visitors out."

Belle nodded, but flinched as her grip already began failing. "The bark's digging into my palms," she tried not to complain.

Bearskin paused long enough to fish a clean pair of her sturdier gloves out of the satchel. "Wear these. They'll keep your hands warm, too."

"Thanks. Oh, these are lined with fur!" she exclaimed in delight.

"Rabbit. Come along, we need to make use of the night while it's still here."

ooOoo

Somewhere close to three in the morning, fresh snow began slowly covering their tracks. Grateful to leave the brushing branches behind, Belle shook her hands sorely as they kept walking.

"Do they feel red?" Bearskin asked sympathetically.

"Yes," she admitted self-consciously.

The trapper leaned over to scoop up some snow. Baron took the opportunity to climb up her arm and arrange himself over her neck. The pale woman fought back the urge to press her face against the soft fur to roll the snow into a firm ball. "Hold this between your bare hands for a while. Feel free to alternate between this and the gloves as you wish."

The girl accepted the offering gratefully. "Bearskin?" Belle asked hesitantly while peeling off the gloves. "I know I have no place asking this, but it's something the peasantry have been wondering about for a while. … There's been this theory about why you don't… really pay attention to girls."

"There's probably a dozen theories," Bearskin replied flippantly.

"… Can you love when you're cursed?"

The trapper looked at her incredulously as Baron meowed in indignation. "What kind of a question is _that_?" she demanded. "If I couldn't love, I wouldn't trouble myself with problems like this."

Belle looked confused. "What does love have to do with this?"

"Everything. Compassion and mercy are direct results of love and, although I don't know you, I do care about you and your family. Granted, I'm not showing it very well right now, but caring is a type of love." Bearskin shook her head in disgust. _'How could people even __**think**__ that question?'_

Baron's purr seemed to be an approval of her answer, because he was taking a few licks at her cheek again. She responded by throwing her hood over her head to shield him from the falling snow.

"… Then how come you don't pay attention to girls? Do you have someone up in the Northern Lands?" Belle asked after a few minutes.

Machida's handsome features were thrust into the front of her mind, still smiling in that sweetly oblivious way.

"No. There's no one," she forced herself to say out loud, clenching her fists tightly. "I am forbidden from taking a mate until after I'm cured, that's all."

"Really? There's a difference between marriage and flirting, you know," Belle laughed almost in relief.

"Not in my book, there isn't. When… _if _I ever pursue someone, it'll happen after I'm cured and I'll have plans of a permanent nature. I don't believe in toying with hearts. They're too fragile to be taken lightly." _'I should know. Mine's been broken for years.'_

Baron meowed worriedly into one ear, but all she did was scratch his soft fur.

"You know, you're considered one of the most eligible bachelors on the continent," Belle informed her in a helpful tone. "Even some noble girls I used to know dream of getting swept off their feet by you. I'd change that 'if' into a 'when' if I were you."

She bit back a harsh laugh as Baron added a sarcastic growl. "I suppose only time will tell. But considering how many people I shock by not being middle-aged with a beard, I'm surprised girls dream about me."

"There are a lot of inconsistent reports about your age," Belle admitted sheepishly. "Some people think that you stopped aging when you got cursed."

"Thank heaven no!" she exclaimed, coming close to using her real voice. "I was only seven when it happened!"

Belle stopped moving. Baron stopped meowing. For one long moment, there was complete silence in the forest.

"Oh drat. Didn't mean to say that," she growled at herself. "Pretend you didn't hear that number."

"… _Seven_?" Belle choked in horror.

"You didn't hear that number," Bearskin insisted before sighing. "Not that you'll be able to spread it around, but I'd rather people didn't know."

"Seven?"

"Belle, seriously, _forget the number_," she begged, even as her cat started mewing in horror. "You too, Baron. That number was never mentioned, got it?"

Belle kept staring, but her eyes were turning sad. Then they turned pitying.

"That's the last question I'm going to answer about myself. New subject; did you like living in the capital?"

Yes, it was a desperate ploy. No, neither of them were falling for it.

Was Belle polite enough to go along with it? Thank heaven, the answer was yes.

"… It was all right," Belle finally managed to say. "I had a lot of clothes and books, and some of the parties I went to were pretty fun. But… it felt like the older I got, the less fun they were."

"Why is that?" Bearskin asked curiously, hopping over a log before helping her over it.

Belle growled in exasperation. "When you're a child, you're allowed to get away with things that teenagers can't. It was hard enough to say goodbye to some of my favorite games, but then there was the 'glorious' politics of marriage. Once we hit twelve, all my friends were only interested in making good matches. All they wanted to talk about was boys, clothes, boys, position, boys, gossip, boys-"

"I'm pretty sure you mentioned boys more than once," Bearskin interjected, fighting back a smile.

"My point exactly. The only thing worse than talking about boys were the actual boys." She shuddered in horror. "They were all the same! Overdressed, over pampered, overdramatic, over talkative… I'll be honest; when we lost our family fortune and had to move out of the capital, I was _happy_."

"Even though you have to work hard for your bread?" Bearskin pressed, although she already knew the answer.

"Easily. Adele's right, the men around the village _are _more honest, but… they weren't really my type. I don't know if they're lacking or if I'm judgmental, but I'm still at the 'boys are gross' mentality. No offense," she added quickly.

"None taken. So, no regrets about your old life?"

Belle took a deep guilty breath. "I _did _like the clothes and leisure time. I miss riding my horse and being able to take long walks without needing to go anywhere. I really miss the friends I thought I had before they turned their backs on me."

Bearskin looked at her sadly. "What about your new life? Any regrets?"

The redheaded girl looked away sadly. "I liked how much closer we had grown as a family. I liked not having the subject of marriage shoved down my throat every time I left my room. I _was _trying to get a job at a bookstore since I hate working at the tavern, but the owner wouldn't take me seriously for being a girl. He thought I should spend my time looking for a husband instead of work," she added with disgust. "He said that as if he had a right to make an opinion about me."

"Considering the current situation, it's a good thing boys aren't interesting to you," Bearskin informed her with a tight smile. "I'm willing to bet people thought you couldn't love, either."

"I've overheard the other tavern girls calling me a snob and ice queen. But I'd rather be called a snob then…" she fought to think of the right word.

"Loose like them?" the trapper offered.

"... You probably know a bit about girls like them."

"More than I care to. Suffice it to say, I've seen more of a good impression in rabid wolves."

Baron's next purr seemed slightly amused.

Belle started giggling helplessly. "I'm surprised you saw a difference."

"No tavern wench I've met has tried taking a bite out of my shoulder," Bearskin countered while rubbing her left one. "But between the two, I'd rather deal with a wolf."

Baron patted the shoulder with a worried meow and licked her cheek again.

"Relax, you. That one's completely healed…" The pale trapper trailed off, her eyes turning wide. She sniffed the air experimentally, surprised at the scent.

"Is something wrong?"

"What do you smell, Belle?"

She took a careful sniff as Baron did the same. "I smell nothing."

Baron begged to differ. He hopped off her shoulders to run past some thick bushes that were starting to become touched by morning light.

"I smell fresh foliage and flowers," the trapper explained, taking Belle by the elbow to help her around the thick underbrush. "There's only one place I can think of that would give that scent this time of year."

The young girl's face turned a shade paler and her breathing was a bit sharper, but her lips were set in a stubborn line.

"Are you having second thoughts?" the trapper asked with sympathy.

"No. I'm doing this," she insisted stubbornly, her grip on the cursed woman's arm turning fierce.

When they finished walking through the thick bushes, warm air began caressing their faces, heavily scented from the fragrant blossoms. The tall stone wall had been simpler than the one at the von Gikkingen estate, but much thicker and more imposing.

"I-I can smell the flowers now," the girl confirmed, only a slight waver to tell of her fear.

Baron was waiting for them at the gate, staring numbly at the view from within. Bearskin was literally stunned speechless.

Even the castle seemed cold and … arrogant, somehow. Last time the trapper had seen a castle that big, it had been inside a nation's capital.

But just as Belle's father had said, inside the gates was a glorious garden of breathtaking flowers. An outstanding majority of them were roses in every color under the sun. There were literal carpets and curtains of them!

"… No wonder Father thought no one would miss one," Belle eventually managed to say.

"No kidding," Bearskin managed to reply, taking a second to rub Baron's back before approaching the gate. She took a deep breath for courage and set her hands on the iron bar to open it.

The bar flared red, making her yelp from the sudden heat and jump back. Her gloves were literally on fire!

Baron meowed frantically.

"Bearskin!" Belle gasped in horror, but the trapper shoved her hands into a nearby snow bank. The icy coldness was a little too fierce for her liking, but at least it snuffed out the fire.

"Ouch! I am _definitely _not doing that again!" she growled, just managed to keep her voice masculine.

Belle bit the edge of one finger nervously. "What are we going to do if we can't get in? Are we supposed to wait until the two weeks are up?"

The pale trapper pulled her aching hands out of the snow, and peeled off the ashy remains of her gloves. Baron padded up to her to start licking the burn wounds.

"That'd be silly, if he cares about punctuality that much. Baron, I know you're trying to help, but your tongue's too rough for these wounds."

He mewed submissively and turned his attention to the gate again. He walked up to it to sniff the metal experimentally.

"Don't touch it," Bearskin warned nervously, but he purred in a soothing manner.

The tawny feline started pacing in front of the gate, much in the way Bearskin sometimes did while trying to figure out a difficult problem.

"Does he _usually_ act like this?" Belle asked while looking at the trapper in confusion.

"How else would he act?"

"Like a cat, of course! You know, chasing mice, lapping milk, taking naps; that kind of thing."

"I usually keep him too busy for things like that," she answered with a shrug.

"Too busy to act like a cat?"

"Meow!" Baron declared with a satisfied smile. He jogged over to his keeper and used his teeth to start pulling on one pant leg.

Bearskin had been kneeling over when she had her hands in the snow bank, so she had to stand in order to let her cat drag her a small distance from the gate. "What's gotten into you?"

But Baron wasn't done yet. He let go of his keeper's pant leg in order to march up to Belle and start butting his head against her ankles.

"What is he doing?" she asked, but the trapper only shrugged.

"It looks like he wants you to move closer to the gate."

Belle gave her another incredulous look, but obligingly took the three steps as Baron joined his keeper's side.

The gate smoothly slid open, silently inviting the girl to enter.

"… Of course! I'm not the one he's expecting!" Bearskin realized, grinning down at her cat. "Nicely done, Baron."

He nodded at the compliment, but his eyes were turning sad.

Belle was facing away from them, staring past the gardens and at the castle. She seemed frozen there, as if she was finally realizing what she had signed herself up for.

"This is your choice, Belle. Not mine, not your father's, and not your brother's. Is this still what you want?" Bearskin asked in a soft but masculine tone.

"… It's my mess to clean up," she managed to say, turning a bit in order to give a weak smile to the trapper. Her hand reached into her cloak and fished around an inner pocket.

The slight trepidation turned into horror. "Oh no." She began searching more frantically. "Don't tell me that, no!"

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, I can't believe it! I forgot the money to pay you with back home!"

The trapper merely grunted a laugh, although there wasn't a trace of true humor in it. "I'd have refused payment anyway. For all I know, I'm delivering you to your death. But there _is _something you can do for me."

Belle looked at her nervously. "What is that?"

Bearskin walked closer, making the gate close itself once more. She gently rested the unburned part of her hands on the girl's shoulders and looked her directly in the eye. "When you walk in there, walk in with your head held high. You are not going in there as a sacrifice, you're going as a mediator. When you meet him, state your case simply and quickly. I told your father it might help to offer lifelong servitude instead of death, but he wasn't interested. It's just an idea you might want to try bargaining for, but _please_, no tears and no weeping. You've already proven you're stronger than that."

Belle stared at her, her eyes turning wide with shock. "You're the first person to call me strong," she whispered.

"It's still true." The trapper gently tilted her head in a 'keep your chin up' gesture. "Come now; stand up straight and greet him with a smile. He can't be any worse than the boys you used to know."

She laughed a little weakly at that, but stole a short hug. "Thanks, Bearskin. For everything."

"You're welcome. But he's probably waiting for you," she reminded while peeling the girl's arms off and avoiding her own burns. Then she picked up Baron and stepped away again. "Good luck, Belle."

She gave the trapper another weak smile. But she still squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked smoothly into the garden as the gate opened and closed for her.

"May good fortune fall to you," Bearskin whispered, although she couldn't see how it was possible. She had literally sent this girl to her death; what could be fortuitous about that?

Baron meowed sadly in her arms.

"What was I supposed to do?" she whispered, holding him close for an embrace. "Was there a choice that I didn't see?"

He meowed with irritation, but said nothing more.

Once Belle had disappeared into the castle doors, the trapper forced herself to turn away. She started walking, not really paying attention what direction she was heading.

She just felt so… empty. If anything happened to Belle, it would fall on her-

"_Meow_!" Baron yelled before biting on a finger.

"Ouch! What was that for?" she demanded before stopping and sucking on the finger, since he had drawn blood.

He gave her a direct look and pointed straight ahead with one paw. She looked at the direction and flinched in horror.

She had nearly walked off a small gorge full of jagged rocks. Even if she had prepared for it, there was no guarantee she could have walked away without new injuries, or even getting killed.

"… Thanks, my friend. That would have hurt," she apologized before giving him another hug.

A few affectionate licks on one cheek assured her that there were no hard feelings.

"We should probably get some sleep. There's no point in traveling when my senses are this dulled," the trapper decided while moving back from the gorge in order to hunt for a good camping spot.

Baron answered that one with a yawn instead of a purr.

ooOoo

"_No, no please," Belle begged as she backed away slowly. "I-I just wanted to save my father."_

_A laugh growled through the empty room as a shadow stalked closer._

"_Please, I'll be your slave if you want, but don't kill me!"_

_Again that laugh, which turned into a snarl as the shadow suddenly lunged for the girl._

_A scream filtered through the forest, making wolves howl in agony._

Bearskin sat up with a gasp. "No!"

Baron rolled out of her arms and onto her lap with a startle meow.

"We need to get up, Belle's in trouble and- _ouch_!" she yelped in complete surprise as she and her cat rolled off of a simple cot instead of rolling along the ground as usual.

Bearskin had _never _owned a cot. The ground was more than enough for her.

As Baron meowed in pain, the trapper looked around in complete shock.

The tent she had used for years was simply a tarp with some ropes strung between branches or sticks. _This _one was of a thick sturdy material that had paintings of flowers all over it, with steady beams as thick as her wrist holding it up.

She looked around some more, gathering her cat into her hands which were freshly bandaged from before she fell asleep. There was not only a small lamp giving both light and heat, but a small chest with a fruit bowl sitting on it.

Resting on top of the fruit was a letter with 'Bearskin' scrawled across it. The script wasn't as pretty as the Baron von Gikkingen's, but it was still readable. Actually, it looked like it had been written with a claw instead of a pen.

Baron meowed in shock at the new surroundings as his keeper leaned forward and plucked the letter from its resting place.

"_Please _have some good news," she prayed as she carefully broke the rose seal and unfolded the letter.

Even it looked like it had been written with a claw.

_Dear Bearskin,_

_Thank you for-_

Baron bumped her hand to growl.

"Not now, Baron! I think this is from Beast." She turned her attention back to the letter.

_Thank you for the safe-_

"Meow!" he yelled into one ear.

"I said not now! Baron!" she snapped in irritation as he intentionally sat on the letter, pressing it against her lap with his body.

Giving her a greatly irritated look, he patted a corner of the letter and used the same paw to briefly touch Bearskin's lips.

He repeated this gesture three more times before she understood.

"If I read the letter out loud, will you behave yourself?"

He nodded with a relieved mew and took a single lick at her cheek before hopping onto the cot.

"Troublesome person," she scolded, not able to think of anything harsher to call her cat before turning her attention back to the letter.

"_Dear Bearskin,_

"_Thank you for the safe delivery of Belle. I assure you that she will not be harmed and I will take the best care of her. I regret needing to tell you this, but her father withheld critical information from the both of you. I never wished to kill anyone and was quite relieved when an alternative was reached. _

"_The compromise I consented to give was that after two final weeks with the family, either Belle or her father would return and be my companion for the rest of their days. It may not seem like much to the outside world, but even roses from my domain wield a power that the ordinary world couldn't begin to understand. I assure you that I did not overreact; my fury over the theft was fully justified._

"_Belle has informed me that she would not have been able to come if not for you. Consider the new tent and all its contents payment for bringing Belle to me, for I am most grateful for your assistance. My home is grand enough, but I have wished for someone to talk to for years, and Belle is quite an amusing young lady, even if she isn't quite ready to show me that side of herself yet._

"_Also, don't trouble yourself over Jacques. I can handle him without much trouble._

"_With gratitude,_

"_Beast_," she finished, although she was nearly crying near the end.

Baron was now wrapped around her shoulders and he was licking at her tears worriedly.

"… She's going to be fine," she managed to sob in happiness. "It was just a nightmare… I did the right thing…"

Baron bumped his head against hers, purring warmly.

She kissed his forehead affectionately, the first time she ever did so. "He can't be all bad if he appreciates a sense of humor, right?"

"Meow," he confirmed, rubbing his cheek against hers in happiness.

At this point, she didn't care what was in the chest. She didn't care that the large fruit bowl had all her favorites in it, or that the tent was more luxurious than any she had slept in before.

Belle was safe. That was the only thing that mattered.


	14. What You Stand For

**Chapter Fourteen: What You Stand For**

_It's important that people should know what you stand for. It's equally important that they know what you won't stand for._

_-Mary H. Waldrip_

xxXxx

Guilash was the fourth capital Bearskin had ever seen, but the first one that had a waterfront. The air was a great deal saltier than she was used to and there was the stench of rotting fish.

Her nose crinkled in disgust, but she kept moving down the street, her familiar bag of hide and extra meat tossed over one shoulder as Baron walked close to her side. It had been a week since helping Belle, so thanks to time and the green salve she was so fond of, her hands were completely healed.

"This is probably going to be another short trip," she informed her cat in a manly voice, making him purr with gratitude.

Although he loved fish, it was clear that he didn't care much for the stench either. People were staring at them as they passed, but Bearskin had been long used to that, as little as she liked the fact.

She more or less ignored the attention, other than a few friendly nods and such to random people on the street.

Suddenly Baron bumped against one leg. She looked down in surprise.

"Meow," he said firmly, going down a street on the left.

Since he had been right about the Baron von Gikkingen and Beast's gate, she decided to follow without question.

He led her down two more streets before walking up a small set of stairs to a slightly rundown building and sat down to wait for her.

"Thanks, Baron," she grunted, fairly certain that this was the trading post.

He purred at her, tempting the girl to smile as she opened the door.

The surly old postmaster grunted a bit, making the girl wipe the slight smile off her face. "So… Bearskin, eh?"

"That is what people call me," she answered in a voice just as gruff, shutting the door behind her as Baron kept close. "Feel up to a bit of business?"

His smile was slightly greasy. "I'm always up for a bit of business. What have you got for me?"

From there, the conversation turned to haggling.

"… Badger skin…"

"… Barely worth the trouble…"

"… Silver fox skin…"

"… Obviously painted…"

"… Another trading post?"

"Oh, no need to make a fuss…"

"… Needles and thread…"

"What are you, a tailor?"

"When necessary. What are your longest- Baron!" she scolded sharply.

Unnoticed by them, her cat had sneaked behind the counter and was easing one of the thicker books off of the shelf.

"Hey, get away from that!" the postmaster snapped, but Baron didn't stop until the book fell free on its own.

The old man leapt in order to catch it, making the cat scamper back to his keeper. "Good books cost money, you filthy cat-"

"He isn't filthy," Bearskin defended with a growl.

"He still has no business pawing around my books. That one happens to be worth two gold pieces." He gently slid it back into place, still scowling at her cat.

That caught the trapper's interest. "What is it about?"

"Nothing a trapper would be interested in," the man said arrogantly, arranging himself on his little stool again. "Now, what were you trying to say before?"

Bearskin glared at him coolly. She fished two gold pieces out of her bag and placed them on the table, although keeping her fingers on the coins. "Let me try again; what is the book about?"

The postmaster was staring at the money shamelessly. "It's the collected works of Thegui's finest poets," he replied without hesitation. "I was lucky to get a copy here. Most people that come here don't like fancy words."

She gave a curious look to her cat. He was nodding enthusiastically and patting the hand holding the coins against the counter.

"… Consider it sold. Please fetch it for me."

He did so without hesitation. "I didn't know trappers were lovers of fine poetry."

"Only time will tell," she answered with a shrug.

The postmaster gave her a strange look as he handed the book over. "Why buy the book if you don't know?"

She took the book, allowing the man to take the coins. "My cat has unusually good sense. He hasn't disappointed me yet." She gave Baron a few fond scratches on the ear, making him purr with pleasure before slipping the book into her trading bag. "But back to the previous question, what are your longest-"

The door behind them suddenly slammed open, making both the trapper and postmaster look over with curiosity.

It was a finely dressed soldier, perhaps a captain. "Bearskin," he greeted with a fluid bow. "The country of Thegui is in need of your services."

She groaned in agony. _'I should have known better than to come to a capital.' _"I don't do murders, I don't do kidnappings, and I don't do alliances," she informed him while holding a gloved hand to her forehead. _'Not another political knot!'_

"Oh? Then it's a good thing that we don't want any of those things," the captain said carefully. "It's a retrieval."

She gave him a strange look. "A retrieval of what?"

"I was ordered not to say. The Chief Advisor himself wishes to tell you, as he can provide you with all of the details. If you would be kind enough to follow me to the palace? The kingdom is certain to make it worth your while."

Bearskin sighed and shouldered her bag. "We will continue later, postmaster. Let's get going, Baron."

Her cat nodded, although there was a guarded expression in his eyes now.

ooOoo

Despite how many peasants were dead certain she rubbed elbows with royalty, this was the first time that Bearskin had ever entered a palace. It was far grander than the number of castles she had visited since leaving the Northern Lands, almost as if it was necessary to remind people that the king lived there.

There were many people roaming the halls, most of them in very fine attire. But that didn't mean they were above pointing at her and whispering to each other like the common people were fond of doing. Some of the younger girls were giggling behind their beaded fans, but she wasn't interested in finding out why.

Baron was now riding on her shoulders and the captain had insisted that she leave her bag with one of his underlings. He had tried to get her to leave behind the satchel as well, but there was no way on earth that she was letting anyone get their hands on it.

That went double for Baron, even if he had been willing to leave his perch on her shoulders.

After three long corridors and a grand staircase, the captain gestured for her to wait while he entered a room alone. "Bearskin has arrived, your grace."

"Thank heaven, send him in immediately-"

"I still say you're making a mistake!" another voice insisted hysterically, even as the captain stepped aside for the trapper.

"_Please don't let the abbot change your mind about helping_," he whispered worriedly.

Bearskin was about to ask what an abbot was, but when she stepped into the room, she realized that no explanation was necessary.

It was another priest. She had to fight back a groan, but she managed a somewhat grim smile. "Greetings."

The man who was in rich clothing waved a warning finger at the scowling abbot as he came closer to shake the trapper's hand. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Bearskin. We would have contacted you sooner if we had known where to find you."

"If I was aware that help was needed, I'd have visited sooner. What can I do for you?"

"I need you to find Princess Blanche. She is the heir to the throne, you see, and since the queen died last week, she is the rightful ruler. Can you do it?"

Baron gave an amused purr.

"I'm going to need more information than that," she explained patiently, still using the man voice. "I think I should know why she left before I can search for her, at the very least."

"Ah, mm, well," he said while nervously scratching at one ear. "That's a bit of a long story."

She crossed her arms at him with a calm detachment. "If you expect me to take the job, I need to know the details. When did she leave and why?"

"… I'm afraid our queen was a shade… unbalanced," he said shamefully. "She loved the king dearly and never seemed to recover from his death. However, she had nothing but distain for the Princess Blanche, since she was the king's second wife and wasn't able to produce an heir, let alone a male one."

"So she was the stepmother of the princess?" she asked, just to clarify.

"That would be correct. Please sit down, there's still more to tell," the advisor continued while leading the trapper to a couch.

"Careful, be sure it's something you can get rid of later," the abbot said worriedly.

Baron snarled at the man, but Bearskin rubbed his back in warning.

"Shh, my friend. He's a priest, he can't help it."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" the scrawny abbot demanded, ready to be offended.

"It means that thanks to my curse, you are incapable of being civil to me. For the record, sir, my curse won't touch your furniture or anything that is yours. As you can see, it doesn't even touch my cat," she informed the advisor while scratching Baron's orange fur.

The advisor numbly nodded and gestured for her to sit on a luxurious couch. "Louis, whether you like it or not, we _need _Bearskin's help. He's the best trapper on the continent and, if you can't stay civil, you should probably take your leave."

The abbot made some outraged sounds, but spared another glare for the cursed woman before stomping out of the room.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Bearskin," the advisor tried to apologize, but she waved one gloved hand to soothe him, now that she was sitting on the couch.

"I have yet to meet a priest that's polite to me, I'm used to it. Now, back to Princess Blanche?" she gently prodded as Baron sat erect on her lap.

"Thank you," he sighed while sitting on a high back chair. "There was another reason that the queen hated the princess. Queen Isabelle was regarded for years as the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, but as Princess Blanche grew older, it became clear that she would soon surpass the queen in that regard."

Bearskin cocked an eyebrow. "That seems like a shallow reason to hold a grudge." _'The one I have against Sakura is over Machida, not over her looks.'_

"It was enough for the queen, I assure you. Please understand, until a week ago when the queen died, I had no idea why Princess Blanche disappeared without a trace two months ago. I had every hand possible out looking for her, but despite our best efforts, we couldn't find her. I couldn't understand the queen during that time; she'd rapidly change between not caring if she was safe and sound to obsessing whether or not we could find her. I talked to her physician about getting her something to soothe her, but it did little good. In fact, it got worse, because there would be times when the queen herself would vanish for hours, only to reappear in her room insisting she had never left."

"… Rather strange behavior for a queen," Bearskin managed to say, although she was bracing for the worst.

"Quite. We're not quite sure how she died, either."

Baron gave an incredulous mew, reminding the two that he was still present.

His keeper gently rubbed his back to assure him he wasn't forgotten. "Surely there was some clue?"

The advisor shook his head in amazement. "There was only her favorite mirror, with the shattered remains surrounding her burned body, although her clothes were still good as new. The servants had heard her give an unearthly shriek and heard flames just before finding her like that, despite the fact that nothing in the room was burning, even the fireplace."

Bearskin leaned back to mull things over, although her flesh was recoiling in horror. _'This stinks of magic.' _"Was there anything unusual about that mirror?"

"Not that anyone could tell, other than it was the queen's favorite. We're not even certain where it came from. But back to business; after the queen died, one of our woodsman approached me with information. The queen had ordered him to take the princess with him into the woods and kill her."

Her perfectly white eyebrows shot up, but he wasn't done talking.

"He wouldn't do it, however. He sent the girl into the woods alone to escape the queen's wrath."

"I thought people considered the woods to be haunted," she said carefully.

"That is correct. That is also why I don't think the attempts to find her have been very successful. The soldiers and such are quite reluctant to enter the woods, let alone for stretches of time. You, on the other hand, were born in the woods, were you not?"

"Actually, it was a cave and I've only been in forests for the past three and a half years," she answered in a matter-of-fact kind of tone. She set Baron on the couch so that she could stand up and pace the room. "But you _are_ right about my attitude concerning forests. I've already covered the ground between here and one of your smaller villages, so I already know that she's not there, or at least wasn't there when I passed through." She took her map of Thegui out of the satchel to study it. "If she's somewhere in that forest, I just might find out where before flowers start blooming."

"That's wonderful!" the man exclaimed, but she raised a hand to warn him.

"However, she might not be alive. A man I met had a run-in with wolves in there and he barely survived the encounter. I might only be able to bring back her remains."

Baron nodded soberly.

The advisor gave the cat a strange look, but also stood from his chair to approach her. "At this point, I would be grateful even if you only brought back her bones. We need our princess, even if it's to pay our final respects."

"Very well. I will need to know what she looks like and I will need something she wore on a frequent basis."

He gave her a strange look.

"My nose is sharper than most humans because of my curse," she explained patiently, although she hadn't realized it until after leaving home. "If I know her scent, I might be able to track her faster. My cat's nose isn't half-bad either."

He purred at the compliment and hopped off the couch to rub against one leg affectionately.

"… Our queen found the portraits of the princess quite distressing after she left," the advisor managed to say, gesturing for her to follow him out of the room. "However, I was able to save one of them from the flames. Right this way."

She followed him out of the room with Baron right beside her, walking at a brisk pace in order to keep up with the old man.

It took walking down two more hallways and around another corner to reach an old door.

"Please forgive the mess, this closet is almost never used," he apologized while opening the door and lighting a small candle.

Bearskin entered the small closet, her eyes locked on a large square object covered with an old cloth. Somehow certain that it was the portrait, she grabbed a corner of the cloth and pulled it away.

Eyes like the sky. Lips red as blood. If anyone but her was looking at the portrait, they would have said skin like snow, but it was more like the delicate shade found in fresh cream.

She had been expecting a great beauty. She wasn't disappointed in that regard, but at the same time, what she saw was enough to make her drop the cloth in surprise.

Princess Blanche was a _child_! Certainly, a beautiful one, but barely even a teenager!

"How long ago was this painted?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Six months ago. If she is still alive, she's just shy of turning fourteen."

"Yet your queen was _already _worrying about rivalry from her?" Bearskin demanded, barely able to keep her voice masculine.

"I already told you; the king's death unhinged her. Do you wish to look a little longer, or should we proceed to her room?"

"Let's proceed. Coming, Baron?" she asked over one shoulder, since he was still studying the portrait with a strangely sad expression.

"What baron? You know a baron here?" the advisor asked in surprise.

"I was speaking to my cat. Baron?"

He mewed in a comforting manner before catching up to them in a heartbeat and rubbed his body against one of her legs as they walked.

"… Strange cat, that one," the advisor noted numbly as they began climbing another staircase.

"Perhaps, but that's why he keeps me," she answered with a shrug.

"Um, don't you mean that _you_ keep _him_?"

"No. He's free to leave me any time he pleases. But he chooses to stay, so he keeps me."

He gave her a tired growl before rubbing his body against one leg again.

The advisor gave her another strange look, but did not comment further. "Here is the Princess Blanche's room. I hope enough of her scent is still here."

"If she spent a lot of time in here, there should be enough," she comforted him while opening the door.

It was soon clear that Princess Blanche was not interested in a beauty contest with her stepmother. There were a great many stuffed animals and picture books, speaking louder than words that this was the room of a child.

But since she still planned to find the girl, she entered the room with Baron at her side, taking in a deep, careful sniff.

There were some vague scents from more than one human, but not enough to tell her which was the dominant one. She circled the room carefully, walking even slower in order to open the girl's wardrobe.

She growled with disgust. "Someone has washed her clothes recently. I can't find a scent other than rose soap."

"You can't?" the advisor said broken-heartedly. "If I had known you could do this, I would have told the servants not to-"

"Meow!" Baron called triumphantly, making both the trapper and palace official look over at him.

He was sitting on the canopied bed, nudging a large rabbit toy with his face. "Meow meow!"

"Good work, Baron," she congratulated, barely able to keep her tone masculine as she stepped closer to the bed and held the toy against her face.

Yep, this rabbit had a young girl's scent all over it. This had to have been her favorite toy to sleep with, to still have her scent months later.

She gently set the rabbit on one of the pillows after a few minutes of careful sniffing, allowing Baron to climb up her arm and resume his usual perch on her shoulders. "I think we have everything we need now, don't you?"

He purred the affirmative, rubbing his face against hers affectionately.

She ran her hand over his head while turning to the advisor. "I will do everything in my power to find her, dead or alive."

"The latter is more preferable," he said with a nervous laugh, although his troubled eyes were on her cat instead of her. "Does a large sack of gold and jewels sound all right for payment?"

"It sounds fine, but I'd best be on my way now. It's been a cold winter and she could be in trouble, wherever she is."

ooOoo

There was no scent of the girl in the woods surrounding the castle, so Bearskin needed to move deeper into the forest. Baron was now only rarely on her shoulders, carefully sniffing the areas that were harder for her to get to.

Unfortunately, this terrain had depressingly few places for a tired little girl to seek shelter from the cold. With each day that passed, Bearskin became more and more certain that the young princess had to be dead.

But since she couldn't find so much as human bones, she had no choice but to keep moving deeper into the woods, until the trees were so close together that she could barely see.

She responded by making a torch out of a sturdy branch. "Is it just me, or is this beginning to feel like a hopeless assignment?" she asked as they moved deeper into the woods.

Baron meowed stubbornly as he kept sniffing around the underbrush for a scent.

"I didn't say I was giving up," she defended hotly. "I meant that… well, it's really unlikely that she could survive a winter in here all alone, isn't it?"

He answered with a long, strange meow, one that her mind chose to interpret as a 'maybe'.

"_Especially_ since she's a princess-er, queen… a royal," she sighed, since she wasn't sure what to call the girl at the moment. "Royalty aren't exactly taught how to live off the land."

Baron moved a bit slower, but the next meow sounded like a depressed agreement.

She opened her mouth to make another comment, but never got the chance to.

For at that exact second, a large timber wolf jumped out of the bushes and started running at her terrified cat.

Bearskin didn't hesitate to drop the torch. She slammed her body into the wolf's before it could reach Baron, roaring like a bear as her grandfather's blood began asserting itself in her veins.

The wolf roared back at her as it rolled to its' feet, snarling a warning as it tried to bite her. She responded by kicking it hard in the stomach, following it with a roundhouse to the muzzle.

The wolf lay on the ground in pain, but managed a blood-curdling howl. Other wolves howled back as their voices drew closer.

"**Baron, stay close**," she ordered, her voice still altered by her grandfather's madness.

But he wasn't obeying! He was frozen in place, staring at her in complete and total shock. Not in the mood to argue with him, she ran up to the cat, swept him into one arm and slipped his body into the satchel without a thought.

Once his comforting weight had disappeared, she knew she was ready to fight the pack as they emerged from the woods. They circled around her, preventing all avenues of escape as they slowly closed in.

'_Pretty brave wolves,' _she couldn't refrain from thinking, since she had never before met an animal willing to fight her without bait. She pulled out her sword, slowly rotating her fighting stance in case one of them tried to jump her from behind.

One tried just that, making her automatically throw him over her shoulder just in time to use her sword to slash along the side of another wolf.

He howled in pain, which only added to his pack's determination to take her down.

Another bitten shoulder. A clawed up leg. A wolf grabbed her cloak with his teeth to hold her still, but her follow-up technique was nearly as effective on him as it was on humans that grabbed her cloak.

Really, why _did_ people always go for her cloak? It was such an ineffective way of making her be still, it was laughable.

"Stop! I said _stop_!" a gnarled voice called out from somewhere she couldn't see it.

Miraculously, the wolves immediately backed away from the trapper, their eyes directed behind her. Rubbing her head to battle the headache she always got after an 'episode', she turned around as well. She blinked twice, not quite believing her own eyes.

At first glance, it appeared to be a child. But no child had a beard _that_ long. "Bearskin, I presume?" the tiny man asked tightly, holding her torch while stamping out the few flames that had escaped it.

She nodded, still keeping a hand to her poor head. "And you would be…?"

"It's not important. If you're looking for game, there's not much to be had this deep in the woods. You'd be better off going east of here."

Bearskin shook her head. "The only 'game' I'm after is a young girl by the name of Blanche. Have you seen her?"

The little man stiffened in horror. "Give me one good reason not to ask my friends to kill you," he snarled, holding his staff ready for a fight.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "She's the new queen of Thegui. Her stepmother is dead and the High Advisor asked me to bring Blanche to her rightful home. Her people are quite worried."

He gaped at her. "… The witch is gone?" he whispered hopefully.

The trapper tilted her head at him, not expecting the rude term. "Yes, she's dead. Her body's been burnt to a crisp, but no one knows how or why."

A wide smile overtook his face, just before he began laughing. "I _knew _she'd go too far one day! Good riddance to bad rubbish!"

She cocked her head at him, but wasn't distracted from her mission. "I will ask again; have you seen the girl?"

His laughter softened, leaving behind a very sad look. "This one's all right, my brothers. I can handle him from here."

One of them gave a fierce growl as he started licking at one slashed leg.

Feeling unusually guilty, Bearskin sifted through her satchel for her biggest jar of healing ointment. "Since it appears the fight was a misunderstanding, I hope this will soothe your friends' pain."

He accepted the jar, opening it for a sniff. His little eyes lit up. "_Well_! So there _is _a human that can make a decent healing potion! Apology accepted, I'll use this on them later," he promised while gently setting the jar gently inside his own satchel. "Since you don't work for the witch, I'd be happy to show you where our Snowdrop is."

"Snowdrop?" she asked in confusion.

"Just a nickname we gave her. 'Blanche' seemed a little too formal for the girl, and we didn't want anyone overhearing us say that name, in case there were unfriendly ears about."

"There are more of you," she realized, fetching Baron out of her satchel.

The poor cat was trembling as if from a seizure and his mews were strangely panicked.

"Shh, Baron. Next time I tell you to stay close, I mean it," she scolded, holding him against her good shoulder.

The little man was staring at her cat in shock. "… Yes, there's more of us. Where did you get a bag like _that_?"

"From a good friend," she answered simply, still running her knuckles over Baron's back in an effort to soothe him, but the poor cat was still shaking like a leaf. "Was it really that bad in there?"

His next meow was of pure horror and he was rubbing his cheek against hers in a desperate attempt to distract himself.

The little man shook his head in disbelief. "I'm pretty sure magic satchels aren't meant to carry living things."

"Maybe not, but I didn't want him getting hurt during the fight. Are we nearly there?"

"It's still a bit of a walk," he sighed, a large dose of melancholy coming into his tone. "I'm afraid there's bad news for the kingdom."

Her blood ran cold. "How bad?"

"Snowdrop's dead. We were about to start the funeral when our friends sensed your presence."


	15. All Doubt

**Chapter Fifteen: All Doubt**

_It is better to be silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt._

_-Abraham Lincoln_

xxXxx

"It was about four months ago that the pack sniffed out the princess. Despite how you met them, they're actually pretty well-behaved. They could tell that she wasn't an ordinary peasant, so they brought her to our cottage after she calmed down. Poor thing was exhausted, hungry, and scared half to death. Can't really blame the poor child, after nearly getting killed by one of her own servants."

"So you and the others took her in?" Bearskin asked, still trying to soothe a terrified Baron against her uninjured shoulder.

"That's right. We're seven brothers that have lived in this here forest for decades without seeing a soul, so we couldn't help doting on our little Snowdrop." The little man took out a dirty handkerchief to dab his eyes and long nose. "None of us were successful in finding wives, so we treated her like the daughter we never had. Sweet as honeysuckle, she was, with a voice like a nightingale." Then the man paused. "Her cooking needed some work, but she was still a good girl."

Bearskin bit back a smile. "What happened to her?"

The little man's hands turned into angry fists. "It was that no-good witch!" he spat. "Being the queen wasn't enough for her, forcing Snowdrop to leave her home wasn't enough! She'd come by every now and again and try to kill our girl while we were out hunting or working the mine."

"Mine?" the trapper asked sternly, remembering the Soot Clan.

"We have our own mine, but don't bother asking where it is. We've always preferred burning coal to wood, but there's not enough to sell for extra money. Back to the point, the queen would magic herself as random old ladies selling wares. The first time she came to call, we came home to find Snowdrop wearing a corset that was so tight, she couldn't breathe. It took her a week to recover from that."

"How do you know it was the queen?" Bearskin asked curiously.

The small man sighed while shaking his head. "My brothers and I once did a favor for a magician. No one can find our home unless we want them to, but he warned us that those with power would be able to find us if given enough incentive. No one but the queen could possibly have a grudge against Snowdrop and she said that the old woman didn't look a thing like her stepmother. If she was not a witch, she knows one, but we're pretty sure she's a witch.

"After the corset incident, we made Snowdrop promise to never leave the house without one of us or even let anyone know that she was inside the house while we were gone. A month later, we found her passed out in the main room with a jeweled comb in her hair. Since the corset incident was suspicious, we took it out and buried it. It took us almost two weeks of constant care to work whatever was on the comb out of her system. Probably poison."

"You would have had to have found her pretty fast, to have been able to save her from poison," Bearskin said while still rocking Baron against her good shoulder.

He had calmed down, but there was still a slight tremble to his small frame as he cocked an ear to the small man.

"We did. One of the pack saw a crooked old woman leaving the cottage in a ridiculously happy mood, so he got us immediately." He shook his head tiredly. "I was so sure that she'd have learned from the first time, but the simple fact is that she is such an innocent! Despite everything that has happened to her, she still refused to see anything but the best in anyone she meets."

Bearskin rubbed her cat's head sadly. "That's a beautiful, if somewhat gullible way to see the world."

Baron mewed his agreement.

"Exactly. That's why one of us started staying with her every day, to be sure that she didn't talk to another 'harmless' old lady." He shook his head mournfully. "We were so sure that way would keep her safe."

"What happened?"

He shook his head mournfully. "About two months ago, Snowdrop decided to surprise us with pies and went into the cellar to grab some of the preserves. When she took too long coming back up, my brother Gustave went down to check on her. … She was dead."

"Wait, just like that?" Bearskin asked incredulously.

"She had a red apple in her hand, with a single bite taken out of it. We only get yellow to green apples around her, so it had to have been from the witch. We tried to revive her, we truly did, but nothing worked." He blew his nose into the handkerchief like a horn.

"We were waiting for the ground to thaw out before burying her and it took a lot of time making a coffin worthy of her. It's one of our finest works of art, but we still wish we hadn't needed to make it. Will you be taking her body back to Guilash?"

"I _did _promise the high advisor I would, dead or alive." She sighed sadly, still rubbing Baron's fur. "He was hoping for the latter, though."

"_Believe _me, boy; we would all like the latter," he replied, blowing his nose again.

She had to bite on her tongue to keep from protesting about being called a boy. Older people had a tendency to call her that every now and again; there was no insult meant.

After a few more minutes of walking, the trees gave away to a small but beautifully green meadow, completely surrounded by the dense forest. In the middle of the meadow was a well-built cottage, with several little men outside of it.

As she and the one brother drew closer, she realized there were seven of them altogether.

"Brothers! Bearskin has brought us good news," the one brother said with a sad smile. "The witch is dead and gone for good."

"… Ah, but if Snowdrop were alive to hear it, that would be grand news," one of the older ones said mournfully.

Bearskin bowed respectfully to the mourning little men. "The high advisor has asked me to bring her back to her castle, in whatever condition she is in."

"You'll not be taking our Snowdrop!" another man snarled, standing in front of the little door like a guard.

"Henri, you knew all along she wasn't really ours," the first one said mournfully.

"I don't care, Raymond! I'll not have some cursed stranger come and take her, no matter who he says sent him!"

Baron meowed indignantly, but she rubbed his back in a soothing manner.

"Good sir, I am more than aware of how much she meant to you. To all of you. But I made a promise and I don't go back on my promises. I don't mind if some or all of you wished to accompany me back to the castle and tell the advisor of what the queen had been up to before her demise. He thinks she was only unhinged, not dangerous."

"Oh, she was dangerous, all right," another little man grunted, poking Henri's side. "Come now, brother; we can't ask for a better offer than that."

"But… but…" he tried to say, his black eyes overflowing with tears.

"I know. We all know, but the simple fact is that she was the kingdom's before she was ours." The comforting little man bowed back to Bearskin. "If you would follow us into the cottage?"

She nodded, but needed to bend down to almost half her height in order to get through the door.

What was inside broke her heart.

Laid across the table was a magnificent coffin, crafted of flawless glass and decorated tastefully with gold vines and flowers. Through the glass, she could see Blanche dressed in a beautiful lace gown, her arms crossed over her chest. On her brow was a simple crown, one that mimicked the vines and flowers of the coffin.

All the little men had gathered around the artwork they had created, gazing lovingly at the girl they had welcomed into their home.

"… She seems well-preserved," Bearskin managed to say as she came closer, still having to lean over to avoid the beams in the ceiling.

"Yes. We think the poison in the apple has slowed the… you know," one of the little men said while wiping his eyes with a dirty hanky.

Baron meowed incredulously and leapt from her shoulders to land on the coffin.

"Baron, let's be respectful," she warned, but he purred to soothe her.

He stared straight through the glass at the young girl, his eyes dark and stormy.

"Hey, listen to your master, will ya?" one of the men pouted, but Baron was able to avoid the attempts to take him off the coffin.

Then he looked straight at Bearskin and began meowing insistently.

"Baron, you _know _I can't understand a word you say," she sighed, getting to her knees next to the coffin. "Can you try the gesture thing again?"

He nodded and hopped off the coffin to land on the narrow strip of table that wasn't taken by the glass box. Then he stood on his hind legs and used his front paws to push at the coffin's cover.

"Okay, _that _I understand," she sighed, almost saying it in her true voice as she stood up again.

"What, you're not going to take the lid off, are you?" Henri demanded.

"I'm sorry to be a bother, but Baron's advice has yet to lead me wrong." Without another word, she carefully removed the gold-covered glass and set it gently aside.

"Now, don't be trying anything foolish with our Snowdrop," Raymond implored as Baron put his paws on the coffin's edge and took a closer look at the dead princess.

His little nose kept twitching and one little paw gently touched that lifeless cheek.

Then he turned to his keeper and began meowing frantically.

"Is there something wrong with her cheek?" she asked, feeling a bit confused.

He nodded and pointed with her at one paw before pointing at the cheek again.

She sighed and pulled off one glove. "I mean no disrespect, gentlemen-"

"This has gone on far enough!" Henri screamed, putting himself between the trapper and the coffin. "No cursed trapper is gonna touch our princess!"

She looked at him calmly. "Not even if it helped bring her back?"

He gaped at her.

"Baron avoids dead things at all costs. The fact that he's making a fuss over her says that there's something going on that we don't know. Please, let me help."

Henri looked at her with something akin to agony.

She gently took him by the shoulders and guided his body to one side. "Just trust us. Baron's the smartest person I've ever met."

The little cat stared in mute shock as she reached into the coffin and gently pressed a finger against the ice-like cheek.

Her eyes widened in shock. "That doesn't feel like dead tissue," she announced in a firm tone, using one arm to ease the top half of the body into a sitting position. She held the girl's mouth to her ear, but couldn't hear or feel any breath.

"Hold on, you mean she's still alive?" one man dared to ask.

Bearskin didn't answer, but now she was studying the young girl's face in concentration. "You said it was an apple, right? Just one bite?"

"Just one bite," one of the younger brothers confirmed in a tone that was trying not to sound hopeful.

She bit her lower lip in worry. "Could it really be that simple?" she asked Baron, who nodded, and pressed one paw against his mouth while looking at the princess.

Bearskin suppressed the urge to vomit and slipped her ungloved fingers through the girl's lips, searching for something.

With a nauseated expression, she fished the partially-chewed bit of apple out of Blanche's throat and tossed it to the ground. She listened for breathing again, but still nothing.

"_Please_ let this work," she prayed aloud, although she wasn't sure if praying worked for the cursed. She gently eased the girl over one arm until she was almost out of the coffin, and slapped her back once like a newborn baby.

Princess Blanche's entire body shook with a startled gasp, making all of the miners jump back in surprise.

"Easy, easy there," Bearskin soothed in her gruff voice as the girl clung to her for a desperate embrace. "Just breathe."

"Snow? Snowdrop, you're alive?" Henri dared to ask.

Her lungs heaved gratefully as her arms clung to the trapper's cloak. "What… what happened?"

"You ate a poisoned apple and almost got buried alive," Bearskin told her with relief, easing the rest of her body out of the coffin and setting her on a chair.

Then she backed away, letting the little men swarm around her like bees around an exceptionally sweet flower. They were all laughing and crying as the girl hugged one brother after another.

Baron pawed at her pant leg, making her pick him up and hold him close.

"_You are amazing_," she whispered, using his fur to hide her own tears of joy. "_I never would have known_."

He gave her another stunned look, but helped lick the rest of her tears away with a pleased purr.

But after enough hugs and tears were shared, Blanche looked at her with wonder. "You're Bearskin, aren't you?"

She nodded with a small smile. "Your advisor sent me. He says it's time to come home, your majesty."

"_M-Majesty_?" she gasped in shock. "But my stepmother-"

"-Is dead. Your subjects await you-"

"_After_ you get some rest, young lady," Henri insisted, revealing his softer side for the girl. "The country can wait another day for you to return." He glared at the trapper, daring her to say anything to the contrary.

"It is a long way, and you will need your strength," she agreed, secretly taking pleasure from the bafflement in the little man's eyes.

"Besides, this calls for a celebration!" Raymond cheered as his brothers gave agreeing shouts. "The witch is gone and Snowdrop is alive again! Oh, good Bearskin; how can we ever repay you?"

She shook her head with a soft smile as Baron purred on her shoulders. "You can't put a price on a life. So I don't."

ooOoo

Blanche stumbled over more rocks and branches, biting back a cry of pain. "Isn't… there an easier way?" she pleaded with the trapper.

"This is the easiest way I know of. But here," she sighed, making Baron climb into her hood so that she could sweep the young girl into her arms. "You can ride for a bit."

"Thank you," she sighed, putting her slim arms around her shoulders, under the bear cloak to keep warm. She was currently wearing one of the trapper's spare blankets and sturdier moccasins, but her skin was so sensitive that she could feel every pebble and every breeze.

There was now grass on the ground, but the winds still blew with a winter chill.

"Just how much further is it to the capital?" Henri complained as he stumbled behind with his brothers. "I'm getting blisters on top of my blisters!"

"I believe we're still three days away. Another hour and we'll make camp," she promised as Baron gave a few sullen mews.

He didn't like traveling in her hood very much. He definitely preferred her shoulders.

Blanche laid her head on her injured shoulder, making the trapper fight back a wince. "You are so nice to me, Bearskin."

"I certainly try to be."

"You're so strong and yet you're so gentle."

That made a small warning bell start ringing in the back of her mind. "Thank you, your majesty."

"You smell nice, too," she commented, rubbing her face against the injured shoulder until it was screaming in agony. "Much nicer than the men at the palace."

'_Oh, __**please**__, no!' _"Do you think you can walk now?" she asked in the gruff voice.

The girl gave her a startled glance, as if awakened from a dream.

"The ground is much smoother now," she pointed out as they slipped out of the trees and onto a rarely used road. "It shouldn't hurt your feet as much.

Blanche pouted, but allowed the trapper to put her down.

ooOoo

The entire city of Guilash seemed to explode as the princess and company began walking down the streets. Damsels threw flowers and bits of brightly colored paper from the windows and the people below were dancing and cheering, so unlike the solemn demeanor Bearskin had seen on her first visit to the capital.

Blanche loved every minute of it. With the grace and delicacy that had likely been taught to her since birth, she smiled and waved grandly for her subjects, who were practically falling over each other to get her attention.

Bearskin only nodded here and there, not wanting to take attention away from the princess. She was walking with the seven hobbits behind her, in two neat rows.

After the trapper was finally brave enough to draw attention to their height, they had been quick to inform her that they were not dwarves. There was apparently bad blood between hobbits and dwarves and nothing could offend them faster than suggesting they were dwarves.

"How long is this parade going to last?" Raymond asked from the side of his mouth.

"Until we reach the palace, probably. Another ten minutes or so," she answered in her gruff voice.

Baron seemed to be the one least affected by the parade. He was riding on her shoulders again, his eyes ever alert for who-knew-what?

"Um, Bearskin?" Blanche asked in a little girl tone. "I don't know how much longer I can walk. This street is awfully long."

"Do you think you can keep up at a jog?" she asked Raymond worriedly.

He nodded. "Anything to get out of the parade."

She gave him a roguish grin and swept the princess into her arms again. The crowd roared their delight as she and the seven hobbits began walking faster, ever eager to reach the palace.

But Bearskin couldn't understand why they were excited about the increased pace. At least, not at first.

ooOoo

Roughly a day later, Blanche was sitting on her father's throne. On her head was the heavy state crown and the royal robes were draped dramatically over the velvet armchairs. In her hands was a scepter and a heavily jeweled ball; both made of solid gold.

It would have been a bit more of an impressive image, if she were perhaps five years older. As things stood, she looked like a child playing dress up.

"Long live Queen Blanche the First!" the herald proclaimed, a shout that was soon taken up by everyone in the throne room.

The room was so loud, that Bearskin's ears started hurting. But she still refrained herself from covering her ears and aggravating the itch that the new court clothes were giving her.

Blanche had been very insistent on the trapper's attendance to her coronation and even threatened the abbot with getting replaced if he didn't stop shrieking about Bearskin.

'_I wonder if this is what a wedding would look like,' _she thought randomly as Baron purred on her shoulder. The seven hobbits were standing with her, dressed finer than they had ever dreamed. But they were willing to endure the court clothes to see their Snowdrop's happiness.

Blanche was beaming happily, although her arms were shaking from the weight of the scepter and ball. At last, she was forced to call for a servant to take them back to the royal vault.

She leaned back in her throne, sighing happily.

"Your people have missed you greatly," the high advisor said with a warm smile.

"I know. Good thing I'm not leaving again," she said with a giggle.

"Indeed, my queen. With your permission, I would like to give Bearskin his payment."

She looked confused. "Payment?"

"For retrieving you, my queen. I promised him a large bag of gold and jewels if he brought you back."

Henri gasped in outrage. "You mean you only helped us for _money_?" he screamed at the trapper.

"No, I helped because help was needed. Payment is very secondary for me," she replied in an unruffled tone.

Baron purred his approval and rubbed his cheek against hers.

Blanche was able to hear her perfectly. Her little brow furrowed in concentration for a whole minute.

"Shall I pay him, your majesty?" the high advisor prodded her gently.

"… I wish to speak with him first," she decided aloud, gesturing for Bearskin to come closer.

Feeling a bit of morbid curiosity, she came forward as the high advisor took a few steps back.

"Bearskin, do you want that bag of gold and jewels?" she asked outright.

"It is what I and the advisor agreed upon."

She looked irritated at the answer, but forced herself to calm down. "I was wondering if you would be interested in a different payment."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What kind of payment?"

"Well, I've just been thinking; now that I'm the queen, I think I should start looking for a prince consort. You know, a husband?"

Bearskin gave her a bit of an incredulous look. "Aren't you slightly young for marriage, your majesty?"

"Oh, you would rather wait?" she asked, sounding disappointed. "How long?"

The trapper would have stared, if she wasn't already doing so. "Maybe I should ask again," she said slowly. "Who is it you intend to marry?"

"Why, you, of course," she laughed playfully. "You did save me, after all, so naturally you're my Prince Charming."

Bearskin couldn't resist the urge to hold one hand against her forehead as a sudden headache took over her senses and Baron gave a scandalous meow of horror. "Your majesty has misunderstood. I have no intention of marrying you."

Some of the closer courtiers gasped in shock and promptly began passing the news through the large room.

Her large blue eyes widened a little further in hurt. "But… but… you _saved _me!"

"Yes, I did. But that doesn't mean I wish to marry you. In fact, I have no intention of getting married until after my curse is broken."

"Wait, what if you come back after finding the cure?" she begged, now grabbing her cloak with both hands. "Do you know when you'll find it?"

Bearskin closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. "Your majesty," she said slowly, since the girl wanted to act like a child. "When I find the place that can cure me, it will be my perfect home. I would probably never leave."

"But… but no! This isn't how things work! You saved me, so now we need to get married and live happily ever after!"

"Please contain yourself, your majesty," the trapper replied in a firm tone, gently peeling the girl's hands off her cloak. "You will find someone else more to your liking. I guarantee it."

"No! I want **you**!"

At the end of her rope, Bearskin gave her a stiff bow as she backed away from the throne. "Even the queen can't have everything she wants. Have a pleasant life." Without another word, she escaped down one corridor and began running as fast as she could.

Baron mewed in protest, so she transferred him to her arms to make the race smoother for him.

Within minutes, she was outside the spacious room Blanche had ordered for her to spend the night in. She immediately slipped into it, locked the door, and tilted a chair under the handle for good measure.

"I'm thinking we need to get out of here pronto," she told Baron as he hopped out of her arms.

He meowed an agreement as he turned to face a corner like a gentleman.

Grateful for his manners, she immediately got out of the court clothes her curse had stained white and retrieved her own from the fancy wardrobe she had set her own clothes in. "I guess this explains why the servants put a bunch of fancy clothes in here instead of just the one set for the coronation."

Baron growled while nodding his head, still facing the wall.

Within seconds, she was back in a tied-on shirt and comfortable pants and made to slip her surprisingly small feet back into her heavily padded boots.

She stopped for a second and looked at her feet. The bottoms were hard as stone and cracking slightly. She hadn't been taking as good care of them as she should have. But how could they look so dainty, even in such poor condition?

"Meow?" Baron asked, still facing the wall.

"S-Sorry," she apologized, slamming her feet into her boots and pulling the strings tight. "Got lost in thought."

A knock came at the door. "Bearskin? It's me, we need to talk," the abbot asked, sounding strangely panicked.

Sighing, she removed the chair from the door and quickly grabbed the man by the front of his fancy robes in order to pull him into the room.

He yelped in surprise, but she had already released him to lock the door again.

"You'd better make it quick. I'm leaving immediately," she told him in a no-nonsense tone. The last thing she felt like dealing with was wild denunciations.

"G-Good," the man gasped, pounding one hand against his frail chest. "But you won't be able to go by the corridors. Soldiers are already coming for you."

"What?" she demanded angrily, but then he shushed her.

The old abbot was walking to the far side of the room. "Get your things and bring your cat. We need to be fast."

Bearskin gave him another strange look, but buckled the satchel under the cloak as Baron stepped close, looking strangely haunted. "Why are you helping me if you hate me?"

Someone started pounding on the door again. "Bearskin! Open in the name of the queen!"

Holding a finger to his mouth to encourage silence, the old abbot pulled on a long rope, making part of the wall give away. He stepped inside while motioning for the trapper to follow.

Both she and the cat jumped through the opening, just before it closed, and just before the soldiers were able to break through the door.

"The palace is riddled with secret passageways," the abbot whispered, lighting a small candle before marching down the dusty corridor. "It pays to know such secrets."

"Why are you helping me again?" Bearskin whispered as she and Baron followed him on silent feet.

"Blanche was obsessed with you long before you came to Thegui. I knew that if you were the one to find her, she'd insist on a marriage in spite of your curse, so I made some… arrangements."

"If you're planning a double cross-" she growled in warning as Baron did the same.

"Do I _look _like I want to die? Everyone knows what you can do if irritated enough. No, I simply have some loyal servants waiting to take you out of the kingdom, as far as possible. It won't be comfortable, but it will have to do. Everything is ready, boys?" he asked as they came across two poorly dressed young men, standing on either side of a large trunk.

"All is in readiness, your grace," the older of the two men said with a fluid bow.

"Excellent. Bearskin, if you and your cat will step inside the trunk, these two will be able to slip you onto a ship and out to… oh, it's better if I don't remember. You'll be able to handle yourself from there, won't you?"

Baron hopped into his keeper's arms with a grateful mew.

"We should. Thank you," she said gratefully while stepping into the opened trunk. The inside of it was lined with blankets so that her curse wouldn't touch the trunk.

Just as she was arranging herself inside the trunk, one of the servants pulled out a small vial.

"We'll need to drug the cat or he'll-"

"Not on your life," she snarled, holding him close for protection as he mewed in horror.

"Come on, he'll make a fuss if we just close the lid on him," the other man tried to reason. "We'll never sneak the trunk out if he starts meowing or scratching at the wood."

"No? Watch this; Baron, we'll need to be quieter than mice until further notice. Can you handle that?"

He nodded vigorously, and rested his head on her shoulder as she lay down inside the trunk.

"Close it. We'll be fine."

The two men looked at the abbot, but he was already leaving down another passageway.

"Well, here goes everything," the younger man sighed, gently closing the trunk and locking it tight.

There were several small holes in the lid to allow air to pass through, so there was no need to worry as the two men picked up the trunk.

"Wow, he's a lot lighter than I thought he'd be," the younger servant said with surprise.

"Shh! This just has fancy silks, remember?" the older one hissed as they began marching through the secret passageways.

Once they had gone a small distance, the trapper could feel Baron's rough tongue caress her chin, almost definitely thanking her for not allowing anyone to drug him. She answered his gratitude with softly running her bare hand through his fur.

Bare! She had forgotten her gloves! Oh well; she had several pairs inside the satchel, and Baron already knew she was a girl.

Eventually they came out to some light and a loud bell was pealing as panicked shouts filled the air. But the two men were calm as they loaded the trunk onto the back of a wagon, which took off at a slow plod.

'_Being quiet for this long is a little harder than I thought,'_ she couldn't help but conclude as one leg fell asleep. She desperately wanted to switch positions, but didn't dare for fear of being discovered.

Baron seemed to sense her unease, because he started licking her face again. Even _that _was a welcome distraction from the way her leg was now tingling.

After what felt like an hour on the wagon, it finally stopped and the two men carefully unloaded it to carry it up some wooden plank.

"Ah, would these be the silks from the palace?" a scratchy voice asked as the ground seemed to sway worse than usual.

"That they are, Captain. Where do you want them?"

"Just leave it here. I'll have me own boys take them below. Thank'e for delivering 'em, now we can ship off!"

Bearskin could hear the two immediately run down the plank again after gently setting the trunk down. She decided she didn't like the way the ship was moving at all.

Several voices were now heard, one dominant of them barking orders as feet pounded like thunder. Then the floor beneath her began moving worse than before as a great wind blew through the holes in the lid.

"Oy, Captain! Where do you want the fancy box?" a rough voice asked as a boot kicked the trunk's side sharply.

Both Bearskin and Baron were just short of letting out a yelp.

"Careful with that! The contents of that box made me a good deal of money! … Put it inside me cabin for now."

"Aye, Captain." Whoever it was, he was strong enough to pick up the trunk by himself. "Didn't you say there were silks in here?"

"That's what's supposed to be in there."

"Feels a little heavy for cloth." He briefly shook the trunk, much to the occupants' displeasure. "Are we turning into smugglers?"

"Don't be ridiculous, just get it into me cabin."

The trunk moved as the man shrugged and started walking. But at least he had the decency to set them down gently before the captain locked the door behind him.

"All right, now," the man said with relief as he knelt by the trunk. "Let's see who the distinguished abbot wanted out of Thegui so badly." He began tinkering with the lock, but couldn't unfasten it.

'_Come on, come on! My legs are killing me!' _she longed to cry out, but didn't dare. Not yet.

"Okay, that does it," the man snarled, getting out what sounded like a metal tool. "Try not to take this the wrong way, stranger."

Without warning, the edge of an ax slammed into the trunk, making Baron meow with alarm. But Bearskin made him press his head against her shoulder as her heart pounded like a race horse.

Another slam with the ax and the top of the trunk began breaking apart.

"For the love of heaven, don't swing that thing again! I'll do the rest!" she growled, not trusting the man to finish the job without killing her and the cat.

"Ah, so there _is _someone in there," he sighed, ripping the ax out of the trunk. "I was wondering if you were even alive."

She answered that with a good punch to the lid, making her fist jut out of it dramatically. The wood grain scratched her skin, but she couldn't focus on that. She just wanted **out**!

Like a butterfly escaping from its cocoon, she forcefully stretched her body out, making the trunk splinter and shatter into several pieces.

At last, both she and her cat were free. She pushed aside one last piece of the side away from her arm and began massaging circulation back into her legs. "_Dang_, but it feels good to be out of there!"

Baron happily meowed his agreement, stretching happily from his place on her lap.

She turned to the terrified man pressing himself against the wall and gave him a roguish grin. "If I had known you were going to use an axe, I'd have gotten us out from the start. Where are we headed, Captain?"


	16. Day to Day

**Chapter Sixteen: Day to Day**

_Any idiot can face a crisis- it's day to day living that wears you out._

_-Anton Chekhov_

xxXxx

"Oy, Bearskin! Think ye'll live?" one sailor asked as he came to the side to dump garbage.

"I hope not," she groaned, barely able to keep her voice masculine as her body fell limp on the side of the ship. "I've nearly puked out my toenails and I still feel terrible."

"Ah, try not to take it to heart," he encouraged with a laugh, giving her a rough slap on the shoulder. "No one's ever died from seasickness before, as long as you keep drinking water."

"Is it really going to take another week to reach Rogalsh?" she begged, just before turning her face over the side to throw up again.

"I'm afraid so. Hang in there, Bearskin. It'll ruin your reputation if you let this defeat you."

Baron meowed sympathetically, pawing at her pant leg to remind her that she wasn't alone.

"I know, _ech_! I just… haven't been this sick… in years," she moaned, feeling so _weary_.

How could anyone stand the constant movement of the waves? One thing was for sure; she was _never _going to set foot on a ship again! Not if it meant feeling this terrible.

She let herself hang halfway off the boat, just in case anything else was going to come out of her system. She doubted anything was left, but then, she doubted that on her third day at sea. And it was now her eighth.

By now, the sailors had grown used to seeing her on the ship and more or less left her and Baron alone.

Her little cat took her pant leg in his teeth and began pulling in gentle tugs.

"One second," she moaned, turning over the side for one more load of what was once a meal.

Gasping and feeling like a limp noodle, she used part of her ration of water to cleanse her mouth from the terrible bile and let Baron drag her back to the small cabin the captain had set aside for her.

"I don't know how much longer I can hold out," she moaned, curling up on the floor.

Baron meowed at her with irritation and hopped onto the small bed to pat it with a paw.

"I'm feeling sick enough without trying to sleep on a bed, Baron. But I know you're trying to help," she conceded through a weak smile.

He gave her a sad smile and hopped off the bed to purr against her stomach.

"Please not there," she begged.

He quickly moved closer to her shoulder.

"Thank you," she sighed, trying to let his purr lull her to sleep.

ooOoo

_All Haru could do was cry. Every part of her hurt, including her head, despite the fact that she hadn't hurt herself all week._

"_Shh, sweetheart," her mother cooed, gently patting her forehead with a cool washcloth. "I'm right here, everything's going to be fine." She quickly turned Haru to the pail next to the fur nest to catch another load of vomit._

"_M-Mama," she coughed, hating the taste in her mouth._

"_I know, Haru. I'm right here," Naoko soothed, helping the girl sip from a small cup of water. "Now spit it into the pail for Mother, darling."_

_The little girl did as she was told, although it dribbled down her front._

_Naoko sighed and did her best to rock her child back to sleep. "How you could have caught a stomach flu when we see no one is beyond me. __**Come stop your crying, it'll be all right. Come take my hand, hold it tight**__."_

_Haru gripped her mother's hand tightly, wishing that she didn't have to hurt anymore._

"_**I will protect you from all around you. I will be here; don't you cry**__."_

A sudden lick to the cheek made her eyes snap open. Baron was right in front of her, concern more than evident in his eyes.

Bearskin sat up, making her stomach heave uneasily. She touched her cheek, noting the tears running down her face. Although she felt just as sick as before, the beautiful memory was enough to distract her from the pain.

"Don't… don't you cry," she whispered as disobedient tears continued to fall.

Baron meowed in worry, hopping onto her lap to desperately try to lick her face dry.

"No… no, Baron," she whispered happily, holding him close. "These are good tears. I just had the most beautiful dream in _years_!"

Baron patted her cheek, mewing for more details.

"Not here, I'll tell you later," she promised, returning to her man voice while wiping the remaining tears away. "Suffice it to say, that dream made being sick worth it."

"_Me-ow?_" he gasped in shock.

The pale trapper nodded before kissing his forehead. "But I wish you had let me sleep a little longer. She didn't even finish the song."

Baron pleaded for her to elaborate, but she remained firm. There was no telling who could be listening in on them.

ooOoo

Another man screamed like a girl at her approach, backing up until he was against the side of the ship.

"Here, let me help you with that," she growled menacingly, picking the pirate up and dumping him over the side like garbage. She turned around with her sword ready, but no one was left to challenge her.

The few pirates that she had not gotten to yet were already running across the board they had used to climb onto the small merchant ship and were doing everything in their power to get away from the area.

"And don't come ba-" The dramatic line was cut off by another unloading of her lunch.

Thankfully she was already close to the side, so she settled for trying to aim her puke at the pirate ship as it quickly rowed away.

The captain hesitantly approached, letting her finish her business before trying to say anything. "Thank you, Bearskin. That could have ended quite badly if not for you."

"Any… casualties?" she panted before taking a big sip of water to try washing her mouth out. She was so dizzy, it was a wonder she didn't fall over trying to get rid of the pirates.

"Three, and two more might not survive their wounds."

She sluggishly turned around and started searching her satchel for more healing ointment. "We'll just see about that." _'And we'll see how forgiving Baron is about me tossing him into that barrel to keep him out of the fight.'_

ooOoo

Baron meowed in a comforting manner as Bearskin threw up yet again, still at her ordinary post at the side of the boat.

"Are we close to Rogalsh yet?" she groaned as the captain drew close with a nervous expression.

"Actually, Bearskin… it'll be longer than we thought."

She groaned sickly. "Why longer?"

"Me navigator says that a powerful storm is heading this way. We're going to try to go around it, but it means going into dangerous waters."

"How dangerous?" she moaned before taking a sip of water.

"Hardly anyone comes back from them. The Mist Islands are no place for travelers."

She spat out the water before looking at him. "There's no way to avoid both?"

"I'm afraid not. I just wanted you to know, in case… you can do something about it."

Bearskin gave him a tight smile as Baron purred. "If I can, Captain, I will. Just out of curiosity, what makes the Mist Islands so dangerous?"

"No one's ever come back to tell the tale. That's why I wanted you to know; even with the seasickness, you're a force to be reckoned with."

"I'd be happier if… _bleck!_" She quickly turned to the railing again to avoid throwing up on the man.

Oh well. He probably knew what she meant.

ooOoo

It was about three days later when they reached the edge of the storm. At least, Bearskin had been assured that it was only the edge, but to her sickened senses, it was bad enough to make the earlier part of the voyage seem like a vacation.

Determined not to be a burden, she locked Baron in her cabin before working alongside the sailors, rolling up sails and tightening ropes as the captain dictated. It was hard work, especially with her seasickness, but after what felt like centuries, they were able to steer out of the storm's path.

And into the largest fog bank she had ever seen.

"Mist, actually," a random sailor corrected nervously after she made such a comment out loud.

"It's all the same thing anyway," she answered with a shrug, trying to pierce the thick grey fog with her sight. "Just clouds that are close to the ground."

"If it were me, I'd be worrying about what it's hiding than what mist is."

Baron meowed in agreement, making her rub his back affectionately. He was in a much better mood now that he wasn't locked into her cabin anymore.

"Let's hope we don't find out."

A few tense hours passed, silent and uneventful. Even the water was still and smooth as a mirror. It was calm enough to even ease her sea sickness.

"This is no good," another sailor fretted. "If the wind doesn't pick up, we could be stranded for days."

"Don't we have oars we can use?" Bearskin asked, pointing down the side of the ship. "I'm pretty sure those holes on the side could be opened up and used for rowing."

"No, the rowing makes the captain sick."

She gave him a stern glance. "He can pick between being sick or facing whatever's out there. I know which one _I'd _pick."

The old sailor nodded, and took a deep breath for courage before rushing off to find the captain.

Feeling another load coming out, Bearskin quickly leaned over the side to throw up once more. "_Ugh_, I hate this. Baron, remind me to _never _get on a boat again."

He mewed the affirmative, rubbing against one pant while purring in an attempt to comfort her.

Bearskin smiled and washed her mouth out with water before picking him up. She ran her gloved fingers through his fur, holding him close. "You have the patience of an angel; have I ever told you that?"

He shook his head, but smiled warmly at her before licking her face again. But then he stopped cold and looked out into the water.

She also looked out, but nothing had changed. "What is it?" she whispered, but he did not answer her.

Instead, his ears were perked as high as they would go and his every muscle seemed to be frozen in time.

Even worse was when the ship began moving without the aid of wind or tide.

"There's something in the water!" she called out as loudly as possible, keeping Baron in one arm as she looked over the side again. But all she could see were the ripples made by the ship as the speed slowly increased.

She ran all over the ship as the men readied weapons, but no matter where she looked, she could find no evidence of anything that was strong enough to move them.

At least, until they started singing.

That thoroughly confused her. The music sounded like a chorus of girls and yet… it was beyond anything she had ever heard before. Angels, perhaps?

Baron began swaying in her arms, meowing in an almost drunken manner as he tried to escape her arms.

She tightened her hold on him and looked over at the deck.

The sailors were behaving even worse than Baron! None were at their posts and some were leaning off the sides, trying to catch a glimpse of the singers.

…_Mermaids_!

"No, stop! That's just what they want you to do!" she screamed, not caring for once about using her true voice. "Captain, steer the ship away!"

The captain seemed briefly puzzled, but then returned to staring at a large rock that the ship was now speeding toward like an arrow.

"Jump ship! We're going to be killed!" she yelled, still keeping Baron in one arm as she gripped a rope for balance.

There was no time. There was no choice. Even if she tried to grab the helm and steer the boat away, it would still collide.

Biting back a sob, she jumped out of the boat, fighting back the urge to gasp at the icy coldness.

By the time she came back up, the boat was slamming against the rocks, making it break apart like the chest she had been delivered in.

The singing had stopped short, but she could barely notice. It was all she could do to keep both her head and Baron's above the water. He was unconscious.

"Baron? Baron, come on," she begged, shaking him around until he started coughing up salt water.

"Me… meow?" he asked in a daze.

"I'll explain later. We need to get out of the water," she replied, holding him at an angle so that she could start swimming.

Too bad it was one of the things she wasn't very good at. She could barely manage more than a dog paddle. Although it was blatantly obvious that Baron hated being in the water, he was also paddling. It wasn't really doing anything, but at least he was trying.

After a while, one of the boards from the ship floated close enough for Bearskin to grab it.

"Is anyone alive?" she called out while setting Baron on the board.

He looked like a drowned rat, but he was looking around as well. "Meow," he said somberly, pointing off to the right.

She looked over, barely able to see the island through the mist. "If anyone else is alive, answer me!" she begged, but the world was as silent as it had been a mere hour before.

Bearskin looked at the board and then at the island. "Let's hope this works," she muttered to herself, slowly maneuvering the piece of wood.

Baron meowed worriedly, but she shushed him.

"Do you really think I'd take chances with you? Just hang on and enjoy the ride." Holding onto the board with both hands, she began kicking as hard as she could. There was a lot of splashing, but there was a noticeable improvement on her speed.

It was still another hour before her feet could touch soft sand. Feeling exhausted and hungry, she picked Baron up walked the rest of the way to the island, and collapsed on the beach. Her bearskin cloak was now twice as heavy from the salt water and would stink of wet bear for hours.

She lay there panting for some time, still clinging to Baron as he licked her face in spite of the salt water. She held him tight against one shoulder as a terrible fear crept into her heart. "… We're the only survivors, aren't we?" she whispered in horror.

Baron gave her a sad look and nodded.

The pale trapper wanted to cry, she really did. Everyone on board that ship had been good people, good men with families to provide for. But she was so tired, all she was able to do was emit a single sob before letting darkness claim her.

ooOoo

Baron was licking her cheek again. She moaned while waking up; her entire body was stiff from all the swimming and every muscle hurt. "_Ow_. Baron, why did you let me get this out of shape?"

He mewed indignantly, so she gave him a grin to say she was joking. She stiffly sat up and took in her surroundings. A number of pieces of the ship had floated to the edge of the water, but they were too soaked to make decent firewood.

Her little cat mewed for her attention, marching up to a small pile of branches and twigs a little behind her.

"Up to your usual tricks, I see," she couldn't help but laugh, although she was groaning as she rose to her feet.

He purred and seemed to smile back at her as she lit a small fire to start cooking some supper. The sun was just setting, but the ever-present mist was making night approach faster than usual.

"I don't know about you, but I'm thinking that we'll explore this place in the morning," she informed Baron as she started cutting bits of deer meat into her new cooking pot. "There might be something we can use to get back to the mainland."

He meowed in agreement, even as he kept dragging twigs and such from the forest that was bordering the seafront.

But before supper was done cooking, something was splashing around in the water behind her.

Several somethings.

Bearskin wheeled around as Baron mewed in horror. She swept him into one arm and eased her sword out with the other.

They were beautiful, there was no denying it. Their skin was lovely and pale like a pearl and their hair was long and fine. Even their scales glistened in the moonlight like a dragon's treasure of emeralds.

But they could have used some shirts. Modest ones. Baron kept his face pressed against her shoulder, obviously mortified by seeing what should _never _be made public knowledge.

They swam as close to the shore as they could and began crawling on their bellies when swimming was no longer possible. The trapper was very clearly their destination.

"Stay back," she warned the mermaids in a gruff tone, keeping close to the fire. "We're not interested in being eaten today."

"E-eat you?" one mermaid laughed, curling her long hair over one ear flirtatiously. "Why would we want to eat you when there are _far _more interesting things we can do together?"

"Come now; are we not beautiful?" another one whimpered, looking at her with large green eyes.

"Yes, all of you are beautiful, and no, I'm not interested," she informed them in a bored tone, never relaxing her hold on the sword. "Go back to the sea; I'm not the type to do what you mermaids are obviously interested in."

A few of them started giggling like she had cracked a joke and began singing in a low, seductive tone.

Baron's head began swaying side to side, in time to their beat.

"Hey, stop that," she ordered, shaking him around briefly. "They're targeting me, not you, remember?"

He meowed weakly, barely able to understand her through the mermaids' song. He began trying to escape her hold, but there was no way on earth she was going to put him down.

They drew closer, ever closer until Bearskin began throwing bits of burning firewood at them. They hissed and withdrew, some breaking off the song completely.

"What sort of man _are _you?" one of them demanded, one with soft white locks running through her perfect hair. "No one has ever resisted our mating call before."

A smirk crossed her lips. "No one, eh?"

"No one. How are you remaining unaffected?" another asked, obviously irritated by the trapper's immunity.

She bit back a laugh and tossed Baron into her hood, now that they had stopped singing. Even as he slowly came to himself, she undid the ties of her shirt and opened it wide for all the mermaids to see.

They stared in horror at the bandages holding her chest in a manly shape, even though it covered her decently.

"I can resist you because I'm a girl too," she answered in her normal voice, tying her shirt closed once more. "Now please leave us alone."

"… Dang it!" a blonde one nearly screamed. "Over fifty years since a ship's passed through here, and the only survivor is a _woman_!"

"A cursed woman and her cat," she added while easing Baron into her arm again.

He was still shaking, but at least he seemed to be himself again.

"Even if you had some lonely brothers, I would turn into a bear if I tried to mate before finding my cure."

"Mermen? Ah, wouldn't that be nice?" a black haired one sighed in longing. "That way we could have more than a few years of companionship here and there."

"Yes, but then they would talk of us the way sailors talk of their wives," another one reminded her with a grimace as she rolled around to a sitting position. "So… now what?"

"All of you are going to leave my cat and myself alone. There's nothing to gain from either of us, and our dinner's going to burn if you don't let me put my sword down."

"Oh, go ahead and see to your meal," another mermaid urged with a resigned sigh. "You are outside of our power."

Keeping a wary eye on the half-naked girls, she urged Baron onto her shoulders so that she could start cutting a potato into the rapidly boiling water. He in turn kept his face pressed to her neck, probably to keep from looking at the mermaids.

One mermaid tapped her talon-like nails against a rock as she stared at the trapper. "Are you a type of human that is rare?"

Bearskin snorted indelicately. "You mean cursed cross-dressers are strange?"

Baron bit back a strange purr that could have been a laugh.

"Is your curse the reason for your paleness?" the talon mermaid asked, looking a little frustrated. "How is it you became cursed?"

She stiffened angrily. "I feel no need to explain the incident." _'Especially to murdering harlots.'_

"Come now; don't you know any stories at all?" another one begged, the one that had tried to use her green eyes as a weapon.

"I am not an entertainer, miss. I thought I made that clear."

"Eela," she supplied. "I'm Eela."

"What if we make it worth your while?" the silver-haired mermaid said, obviously trying to salvage something from the terrible mistake. "If we caught some fish for your supper, will you tell us a story?"

Bearskin gave her an incredulous look. "Boy, you mermaids are confusing. One second you want to be naughty, and the next second you want a story."

"You have the look of a traveler about you. Travelers always have stories to tell."

She sighed in resignation. "Look, if I tell you mermaids a story, will you leave us be?"

"For the night, at least," the silver-haired one promised, giving a firm glance to her sisters. "But for the record, Eela isn't the only one with a name. I'm Tila."

Bearskin sighed in resignation, rubbing one cheek against Baron's soft fur. "Well, I could tell you what I was doing on that ship in the first place…"

ooOoo

The mermaids loved her account of rescuing and escaping Blanche. They loved it so much that they came back every day, bringing fish and begging for another tale to tide them over until tomorrow.

Bearskin felt incredibly guilty for getting along with the mermaids, especially since they had killed everyone on the ship and weren't feeling even a little bit of guilt over it. Baron's disapproval was crystal clear every time the mermaids waded back to the sea.

"Look, it's only for a little while," she consoled, scratching his ears before returning to her task. "As soon as this boat's done, we'll head back to the mainland and be on the road again."

He nodded, but there was still that frown of disapproval.

"Do _you _have a better idea?" she sighed tiredly.

Baron shook his head while staring at his white paws.

"Then please stop giving me that look. Beggars can't be choosers."

He sighed in resignation, rubbing his body against her pant leg once before hopping onto the partially made canoe. Bearskin held a long nail in place long enough for Baron to hold it between his paws and then pressed it into the wood with a rock the size of her fist.

It was a slow way to build the small boat, but at least there was progress.

ooOoo

"… I tell you, this guy was a complete maniac. He actually dyed his beard _blue _for fun! Not even his hair, just the beard. I don't know why that didn't tip off any of the girls he married that he was imbalanced except the last one. After Alicia found the room where he had been keeping the bodies, the blood stained the dress he loved seeing on her. Since she knew he'd insist on her wearing that dress when he could see her, she had me hide behind a curtain long before supper so that no one would suspect I was there. It was a bit boring, but the conversation I overheard from the servants was interesting enough. They all seemed to know that the duke's wives weren't really all dying from the various causes their lord came up with, but they were too terrified to tell anyone. Only Alicia was brave enough to ask me for help."

"Naturally," Tiliu giggled. "Women are much braver than men."

"It depends more on the person than the gender," Bearskin reminded her again while she finished gutting another fish. "Come suppertime, the duke comes in and asks Alicia the same old question; is her laundry in order? She responds yes, but he notices the blood on the hem of her skirt. Then he gets this really crazy, angry look in his eyes and picks up his steak knife. He began walking very slowly to her." To emphasize how terrifying the moment had been, she took slow, deliberate steps back to her small cauldron, keeping her gutting knife raised as if to strike someone down.

Some of the younger mermaids clung together in fright.

"Thankfully Alicia was smart enough to back up against the wall, not too far from where I was hiding. Just as he was about to stab her, I came out and pounced on him like a bear. It was a short and ugly fight, and I have this to prove it." With one finger, she traced the scar along her jaw line. "He had many more before I managed to break his neck."

Baron shuddered in horror from his place on a nearby rock. But he was keeping his back to the mermaids as usual.

"Alicia wasn't the only one happy with me. Everyone in the duke's lands, and even the kingdom were happy to see the last of him, especially once word got out about his beloved 'red chamber'. Alicia wanted me to stay, but she had the marrying look in her eye, so I politely turned her down."

Quima sighed. "I don't blame her. You would have been a perfect mate if you were a male."

Baron gave a dark growl that sounded a lot like a disagreement.

'_It's twice as creepy to hear a girl say that when she knows the truth.' _"I'm a cursed trapper with a bad temper," Bearskin responded in a tired tone, since she wanted to be sure that the mermaids wouldn't forget her flaws. "Even if I could marry before ending my curse, I doubt I'd go for someone with a title."

"Why not?" Tila asked curiously as Baron's ears flicked upward.

Bearskin sighed, feeling more tired than normal. "I was born and raised in a cave. Everything about my way of living is geared for practicality, not appearances. I've been in castles and fortresses many times, but other than the stone, I can't see how anyone could be comfortable with living in one. On top of that, almost every man I've met that has a title or even some land to his name turns out to have this 'I'm better than you' aura. They may not be that way to me, but I have definitely seen it in the way they treat servants or random strangers."

Baron was nodding sadly.

"What they don't understand is that there is no inferior or superior. The people in charge need the peasants to grow their food and weave their clothes, and the peasants need the people in charge to protect them when an emergency happens. It's supposed to be a partnership, but how can the peasants take the nobility seriously if all they're concerned about is fashion and social standing?"

Baron was still nodding, but he was being more energetic about it than before.

"I doubt I'll find someone who's just right for me, but if I ever do, it will be someone who treats everyone with kindness and respect, no matter what their background is."

Baron looked at her sharply, but she didn't notice.

"But I guess I won't find out until after I get off this island," she finished with a lighthearted shrug.

"Hold on," Eela said slowly. "What makes you think you're getting off the island?"

She stirred the pot while adding more salt to the stew. "My cure isn't here, so Baron and I have been working on a boat deep in the woods. It's not much, but it should get us back to the mainland. It's going to be a miserable-"

"You're not leaving," Tila informed her in a firm tone.

Bearskin stopped stirring her supper and slowly looked at the Eldest Sister, the closest thing the island had to a ruler. "If you're worried about me telling other people there are mermaids here, I can promise not to."

Tila shook her head. "No, that's not it. You may not be a male, but you are still interesting, and your stories are new. You're not leaving."

The young trapper gave her a cool glare while crossing her arms. "You think you can stop me?"

"We'll wreck your boat as soon as you put it to water," she promised in a growl. "You will never leave here."

Bearskin glared at the mermaid and pointedly turned her back to return to making the stew. "Then I hope you enjoyed the story. It's the last one any of you will ever get out of me."


	17. For a Day, For a Lifetime

**Chapter Seventeen: For a Day, For a Lifetime**

_Give a man a fish, and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will eat for a lifetime._

_-Chinese Proverb._

xxXxx

_Ways to escape Mist Island;_

_Kill the mermaids before attempting to leave. _

_Design a ship that can't be sunk. _

_Don't use a ship, design one of those flying sails so the mermaids can't stop us._

_Dig a tunnel under the ocean to the mainland-_

"Okay, even _I'm _willing to admit that this list is getting ridiculous!" Bearskin exclaimed in frustration, crossing the fourth option off the list she had been writing in the sand. "I mean, a _tunnel_?"

Baron gave a mew that sounded like an agreeing disbelief, just before rubbing his face against hers.

She scratched his ears again, feeling a bit of depression take over her mind. "Not that the other options are any better. I hate killing, and even if I tried that, some would more than likely escape and it would turn into an all-out war. Plus none of my books have instructions for building one of those flying contraptions."

It had been three days since she stopped telling stories. The mermaids would occasionally come with the usual fish, but they refused to let her have it unless she promised to stay there forever and tell stories like she had before. There wasn't much game on the island and the trapper knew almost nothing about farming. With the mermaids ruining her net when she tried to fish for herself, Bearskin knew she was running low on time.

She set the branch she had been writing with down and reached into her satchel for one of the emergency rations she kept in there. Using one of her food knives, she began cutting bits and pieces off a red apple, feeding the larger ones to Baron. "I'm not sure what else to do, my friend. This satchel of mine can't feed us forever."

He nodded and pushed his paw against her hand to encourage _her _to eat one of the larger pieces.

They sat in companionable silence, barely able to watch the sunset through the always-present mist.

Suddenly, just as it was growing dark, Baron's body jerked harshly, as if someone had stuck a needle in him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, but all she got was an excited meow and a lick on the cheek before he hopped off her comfortable shoulders.

The tawny cat picked up the branch with his teeth and padded to her other side, where the list had been. He began scratching something into the sand, but his keeper couldn't see what it was.

Pretty sure that it was important, she grabbed bits of the ship that she hadn't used for the canoe to make a fire. Within minutes she had a nice little fire going, bright enough to see what Baron was up to.

She was stunned at what she saw.

_Bargain_ was written in a very poor penmanship underneath the other options.

"With _what_?" she couldn't help but ask him.

He set the branch down and pointed a paw at her. She tilted her head at him, not quite understanding what she meant. He sighed and stepped closer before pointing again. At her satchel.

"… I hope you're trying to say there's something in here that can change their minds, because I'm not giving up the satchel."

Baron nodded, smiling his strange smile at her as he padded around the fire to sit next to where she had been sitting earlier.

She took the hint and sat down again before opening her satchel. "Don't let me down," she prayed as she started unearthing the contents.

An unbelievable number of bandages came out, followed shortly by what remained of her supply of healing ointment, herbs, spare weaponry, clothes, leather for making moccasins, finished moccasins she hadn't given away yet, several pairs of gloves, an _unholy_ amount of gold…

"The gold might be our best bet?" she tried to say, but Baron shook his head and gestured for her to keep digging.

Her dwindling supply of travel rations, needles and thread, rope, nails, books-

"Meow!" Baron said triumphantly once her collection of books was sitting on the sand, right between him and her supply of leather.

"My books? Baron, I don't think mermaids give a care about literature and I never got a chance to read the one you picked out in Guilash," she reminded him while pointing at the thick poetry book near the top of the pile.

He placed his paw on it, looked straight at her and patted his mouth with the other paw before pointing at her.

"Baron, that's what got me into this mess, remember? What does it matter if I tell them about a job or read a poem, whatever a poem is?"

He stared at her in horror. Then he frantically began pulling and pushing on the book to ease it away from its' companions.

Since she didn't want the books damaged, she reached over to ease it out of the pile. Once it was in her hand, Baron hopped onto her lap, forced her to set the book next to him on one leg and began pawing through the pages.

Then he stopped and patted the paper before doing the same to her lips.

"Are you serious? Right here in the middle of a crisis?"

He nodded firmly.

Bearskin sighed and eased the book to a more comfortable position for reading. "I hope you're right." She coughed once before beginning.

"_Just a Weaver, by Benjamine Malachi Franklin. _

"_My life is but a weaving between my God and me. _

"_I do not choose the colors; he worketh steadily._"

The next part made her blink in surprise.

"_Ofttimes He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride _

"_Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside. _

"_Not till the loom is silent, and the shuttle cease to fly_

"_Will God unroll the canvas, and explain the reasons why._"

A lump had formed in her throat, turning her voice hoarse as she finished the poem.

"_The dark threads are as needful _

"_In the skillful Weaver's hand _

"_As the threads of gold and silver _

"_In the pattern he has planned._"

The neat print seemed to move and sway in her vision, but grew still once the tears escaped her eyes. Unable to hold her emotions back, she set the book aside and drew Baron close as she began to cry.

Her tawny cat offered the comfort he could, obviously surprised at her reaction as he desperately tried to lick her tears away.

Bearskin had always considered her curse to be a terrible mistake, a fluke that was never intended to happen. But what if it _was _intended? All those times she saved someone's life or protected others she had long thought of as small consolation prizes for getting cursed, but what if she had been cursed _so_ she could do it? There was no way she could have done a fraction of that with only her grandfather's berserker blood. Not even a fraction, since she would have had no reason to leave home. She would have had a happier life if she was still Haru, no doubt of it, but what about the people she had helped? Even if help eventually came to them from another source, it would have been too little, too late. What was clearly a dark color in her life was a golden one for them, and didn't she usually say after a briefing 'If I had known help was needed, I'd have come sooner'?

Her mother died, and had been willing to risk a fairy's wrath, to protect her. Wasn't it fitting that she ended up dedicating her life to protecting others?

"Baron," she managed to say after a few minutes. "Whatever pattern we're making, it isn't going to end here."

He meowed a firm agreement.

"I think I know what you were trying to tell me," she continued, rubbing her eyes against one sleeve before she started shoving everything back into the satchel. "I'm not entirely sure it will work, but it's definitely better than anything _I_ came up with."

"Bearskin?" a familiar voice asked from the shoreline.

She looked up to see Eela, once more holding a large fish in her arms. But unlike the past few times she had seen the mermaid, she smiled warmly. "Hi, Eela. Could you do me a favor?"

"Will you stay if I do?" she asked in a hopeful tone, holding up the fish as an offering.

"No, but I think I have an idea that will satisfy everyone, including me and Baron. Can you round up your sisters?"

The young mermaid gave her a funny look, but nodded before diving under the waves once more.

Baron rubbed against her pant leg, purring as he tried to help her load things back into the satchel. She scratched his ears, knowing he'd help more if he only could. But she had to admit, she was impressed that he had been able to tell her such a brilliant plan.

It had to work. Nothing else would

By the time only the books were left, the mermaids were crawling to her fire, but stayed at a distance since they hated getting their scales dried out.

"Well, Bearskin? Eela tells us you have a plan," Tila said formally while rolling into a sitting position.

Instead of answering, Bearskin sat down, let Baron hop into her lap, and opened the poetry book to a random page.

"_I arise from dreams of thee _

"_In the first sweet sleep of night, _

"_When the winds are breathing low _

"_And the stars are shining bright._"

She kept reading, the rhythm of the words setting her mind into an untroubled bliss. A pale thought suggested looking up to see the mermaids' reaction, but she brushed it off, not wanting to break the spell that the poem invoked.

"_My cheek is cold and white, alas, _

"_My heart beats loud and fast. _

"_Oh press it close to thine again, _

"_Where it will break at last. _I Arise from Dreams of Thee, by Percy Bysshe Shelley." Only then did she dare look up.

The mermaids were staring at her in numb shock, although their eyes were partially closed as if in a dreamlike state. Not a one of them was so much as moving a tail fin.

'_Huh. Poetry out-sirens the sirens.'_ "Well?" she prodded gently.

"That was beautiful," Quima whispered, still under the poem's influence. "Read another one."

Bearskin grinned and pointedly closed the book. "No."

Tila sat up from the rock she had been leaning against with an irritated glare. "Bearskin, enough is enough!"

"I agree completely and if any of you want to find out what the rest of the book contains, you better listen up."

This was good. She had their attention now.

"Can any of you read?"

"Of course not. What use would we have for that?" Ilia scoffed.

Bearskin sat the book of poetry on top of the other books and patted the modest pile affectionately. "Although that's the only one that has words like that, the other books have history, stories, knowledge, and there's a few that have illustrations of things that mermaids would normally never get to see. I am willing to trade all of these books for safe passage off the island for myself and my cat."

Tila was looking at the poetry book in longing. "Such a collection is worthless without someone to read them."

"Precisely. That's why I'm willing to teach at least some of you how to read. That way, you'll have years of entertainment and be able to read the same stories over and over again, if you wish. Come on, isn't this a better deal than a battle of wills with a stubborn trapper?"

Tila was still staring at the poetry book. "… Come, sisters. We will need to speak of this… arrangement. We will return in the morning with our answer."

"Thank you for your time," Bearskin informed them, scratching Baron's ear as they slipped into the waters and disappeared again.

Where _did _mermaids sleep, anyway? She'd have to remember to ask them later. "Looks like there's nothing we can do until morning. Are you still hungry?"

Baron shook his head, but she was certain he was lying. He'd only had half a loaf of bread and half an apple today. She was still hungry too, but there was no telling how much longer they'd need her storage to last.

"If we're lucky, we'll have fish in the morning," she promised him, curling up close to the fire and wrapping him in her arms again. "Sweet dreams, my friend."

He licked her cheek affectionately and purred until both of them were fast asleep.

ooOoo

"_Th-Thus shall the meek in… __**inherit**__ the earth," Haru stammered, squinting her eyes a bit, since the fire was starting to burn low._

"_That's right, my little kitten," Naoko crooned, shutting the book that had lain across her lap. "But that's enough reading for one day, it's time for your nap."_

_Haru wrinkled her nose in dislike, but obediently crawled underneath the fur quilt with her mother. "Mama? What's a meek? Is it like mink?"_

_Naoko stared at her, but then laughed. "Oh no, sweetheart. Meek isn't an animal, it's… an attitude. Meek means humble."_

"_Oh. What's humble?"_

"_So many questions," Naoko sighed, gripping her daughter tight. "Humble means the opposite of pride. It means… oh dear, how can I say this?"_

"_Try," Haru implored, feeling really curious._

"… _It's like us, honey. Most people live in houses instead of caves and there are some that live in huge houses. The people who live in huge houses think that they're better than the ones with little houses, and the ones who live in little houses think they're better than us, or even people who don't have a home."_

_Haru gaped in horror. "There are people without a home?"_

"_I'm afraid so, kitten. Humble means that we have little and we don't ask for more. We don't really need it. We have each other, we have your father, and we are warm, fed, and safe. We don't need anything else."_

_Haru beamed happily at her before snuggling. "Nothing else," she repeated, although she wasn't sure what else people could want than loving parents and a cave to play in._

_Naoko was half-asleep when Haru thought of another question._

"_What's a house?"_

ooOoo

A gentle hand was shaking her shoulder. "Bearskin? Are you having a bad dream?"

The trapper opened her eyes to see Eela and managed another smile. "No, this one was a good dream for once."

"Then why were you crying?" she asked as Bearskin sat up, making Baron wake up as well.

"It was a beautiful dream. Well, it was a memory, but it was still beautiful. Did you come to a decision?" she asked as Eela rejoined the mermaids.

Tila was sitting in front of her sisters. "We will agree to your conditions, if you agree to two of our own."

Bearskin rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, keeping Baron in one arm. "I'm listening."

"Despite what you think, we've encountered books before. We've seen more than we can count from all the ships we've wrecked, but the marks and pictures always get ruined."

She understood immediately. "There's some stone in the next beach over that I can make a box out of, so that they can be protected from the water."

Tila smiled, but her eyes were still guarded. "You have mentioned time and again that you hope to end your curse. You will likely have more adventures before finding a cure."

"It's a strong possibility."

"This is our final condition; when you find your cure, write a book on your life and make sure we can get a copy."

She blinked in surprise. "A _book_? I've never even written a letter before!"

"That is our condition," she stated in a tone that had no room for compromise.

Bearskin exchanged glances with Baron. "That'd be a pretty long book."

He meowed confidently, patting one shoulder for encouragement.

"… I have one more condition, then," the trapper insisted after some thought. "When the ship comes with the book, I'll make sure that they have a flag with a bear's paw on it. Don't attack the ship or force the sailors to stay when they drop it off."

"_What_?" Yolu gasped in horror.

"I will not send a shipload of men to their deaths over a book. They get amnesty, or the deal's off."

Tila glowered angrily. "What does a bear paw look like?"

"I can carve it into a rock so that you know for sure. Do we have a bargain?" the trapper pressed.

The mermaid leader looked at her depressed sisters, but nodded glumly. "In exchange for the books and lessons, you, your cat, and the ones that deliver your book will be given safe passage from the island."

The cursed woman was smiling with relief as Baron purred his approval. "I should have thought about writing a book anyway, to keep records straight. People on the mainland think I slay a dragon every other week."

"How many have you actually killed?" Eela asked with interest.

"So far, zero. Now stop trying to weasel an extra story out of me. We've both got work to do."

ooOoo

It took another three months for ten of the mermaids to read well enough not to need her help. Only the first month had been needed to construct a sturdy box from the stone slabs that decorated the south side of the island.

But it still felt like it was too soon when it was finally time to slide the little boat into the water.

"A bit small, isn't it?" Quima asked with a giggle.

"Hey, I'm a trapper, not a carpenter," Bearskin countered with a grin. She gently set Baron into the little boat before climbing in herself. "I better get to paddling before I get seasick again."

"Hold on, that was _you _that was constantly…?"

"Yes. I function best with solid ground under my feet."

"In that case, make a rope out of some of those bandages you carry," Myla urged her, diving under the boat to reappear on the side farthest from the island. "We don't mind pulling you part of the way."

"You'd really do that?" she asked in surprise while sifting through her bag.

"In a heartbeat," Eela answered, not waiting for the rope. She placed her hands on the back part of the boat and used her strong tail to push them away from the island.

With some mermaids pulling on the braided bandage rope, and some pushing from behind, it only took two hours for the rickety boat to venture out of mist territory.

"If you paddle hard in that direction, you'll reach land," Eela informed her with a small smile as she pointed southeast. "Depending on how hard you can row, you should get there in a few days."

"Better days than weeks," Bearskin moaned, feeling nauseous again. "I appreciate the help, but I have to recommend leaving before I… _ech_!"

The mermaids immediately got the hint and because swimming back to the island as the pale trapper emptied out the little breakfast she had eaten.

"Meow meow," Baron told her encouragingly, patting one arm as she finished up.

"_Ugh_! I am _never _doing this again!" she vowed, rinsing her mouth out before grabbing the oars that had been salvaged from the ship. She began rowing as hard as she could, although she had to keep stopping to bail out the water that kept sneaking into the boat.

Baron's hairs rose in disgust and he kept trying to splash the water back out of the boat, but it did little.

"I know you're trying, my friend," she comforted him through a weak smile. "You can't wait to put this behind us, either."

He meowed the affirmative and kept trying to swat the water out of his presence.

She bit back a smile and kept rowing as fast as possible. The sooner they got out of the boat, the better.

ooOoo

It was still another three days before they were able to reach land. The first thing Bearskin did after jumping boat and carrying Baron to shore was lying flat on the sand. "Oh, sweet, sweet ground; let us never be parted again!"

Baron meowed enthusiastically, running circles in the sand around her.

She gave him a large grin and looked past the beach. Beyond it was another forest. "Shall we go find out where we are?"

He nodded the affirmative, staying by her side as they entered the thick trees. It appeared no different than the other forests she had been in, but at least it wasn't the familiar forest of Thegui. Queen Blanche had certainly put a price on her head by now and she wasn't interested in dodging the law.

But they saw no signs of civilization for hours, even until the sun began to set. Baron made his signature flinch when she used her slingshot to kill a rabbit for dinner, but at least he didn't start gagging when she prepared the meat for another stew.

"I really am sorry about my cooking, Baron," she apologized in her man voice, since she wasn't sure if they were close to a village when they made camp for the night. "I really have tried to cook things other than stew and healing ointments, but it always ends badly."

He mewed comfortingly and rubbed his head against one pant leg to assure her he didn't mind.

"But I'm missing bread something awful. Let's hope we can find a village soon."

Baron nodded, but went back to his self-imposed chore of gathering sticks for firewood.

She kept an eye on him, unable to stop a small smile from crossing her lips. _'Baron's such a great traveling companion. I really am lucky he chose to stay with me.'_

Suddenly, she heard something moving around in the forest. Whatever it was happened to be clumsy, but was without a doubt moving toward them. Baron looked up as his ears pointed upward to better catch the sound.

"Watch the fire. I'm going to see what it is," she told him in her man voice before slipping into the trees.

"Hello? Is someone there?" a man called out, making her glad that she had returned to acting.

"I am. May I ask where we are?" she asked politely, using her keen vision to probe the darkness.

"In the Lutian Forest, I assume," he replied as she drew closer to the sound of his voice. "Unless I've wandered into Nexan territory, that is."

After turning around another tree, Bearskin could see why the young man couldn't be certain.

He was very thin and ragged, and a long strip of cloth was wrapped repeatedly over his eyes. In one hand was a long stick, but the other one was bracing himself against a large oak tree. A rather bushy beard covered half of his gaunt face.

But perhaps the strangest thing about him were his clothes. Since she had spent time with nobility, she could recognize quality when she saw it. But after months of a blatantly rough life, the fine cloth was only a ripped and torn shadow of its former self.

"My cat and I were preparing dinner, stranger. Would you care to join us?" she asked, keeping her voice like a man's despite the fact that he couldn't see her.

"I would be grateful," he nearly sobbed, stepping away from the tree and closer to her, keeping his balance on the staff. "I've been living off berries and grasses for _months_!"

Now that she had experience with blind people, Bearskin confidently placed his hand on her arm to help guide him around the uneven ground. "If I had known you were going to come along, I would have caught another rabbit. Oh well, we'll manage."

"I really must thank you, kind sir. It's been months since I was shown such kindness."

"To be fair, it isn't often that you run into strangers in the middle of the woods," she reminded him with a smile, although he couldn't see it.

"I wasn't in the woods back then. I was in a few towns before coming here. Say, have you seen a beautiful young woman? She's about this tall, beautiful as the stars-"

"My cat and I have just barely came to shore, sir. You're the first human I've seen in months," she cut him off, certain that he would keep talking about the girl if given the chance.

The man sighed sadly as they came back to the fire pit and she eased him comfortably against a log. "I should have known. No one's ever seen her."

"I take it you haven't been blind long, to know this girl's as beautiful as the stars," Bearskin guessed as she rescued the stew from burning.

"I'm not sure _exactly _how long it's been, but I know it's been months. It feels like eternity, though."

Sensing that the man needed comfort, Baron hopped onto his lap and began purring softly.

The man smiled, and set his staff aside to rub his fur. "I didn't think I'd miss having a cat on my lap this much."

"_I've _found it to be addictive," the trapper informed him as she used a cup to serve up soup in the two bowls she had. "Be careful, it's hot," she implored while wrapping his hand around the bowl and a spoon.

"That's perfectly fine by me," he assured her, taking a second to just inhale the delicious fumes before attempting to sip the scalding liquid.

Baron, on the other hand, refused to touch his food until Bearskin was sipping her soup from a cup like she had when they met.

She watched the man as he hungrily ate up every bit of his supper and the little that remained in the pot. "Are you still hungry, sir?"

"Much less than before, thank you. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name?" the man asked, as if suddenly remembering his manners.

"I didn't catch your name either," she responded impudently, although a part of her was hoping that he wouldn't ask that question.

"Oh, please forgive me." He bowed fluidly to her, despite the fact that he was still sitting down. "I am Juan Ricardos, son of the Grand Duke Alejandro Ricardos." Then he paused, almost flinching in the silence that followed.

"I suppose that explains your clothes. What on earth are you doing out here in the middle of the forest with no assistance?"

Juan seemed surprised that she believed him on the spot, but set the bowl aside to hold his head in agony. "A terrible mistake. I should have been more careful, or gotten her out of there. Anything."

"Her out of where?" Bearskin asked, her curiosity peaked as Baron also mewed his confusion.

"… Her name was Rapunzel. But I called her Zela, it suited her a bit more."

xxXxx

A/N; the weaving poem has a few variants, and there's a few different people that claim to have written it, so I went with the version that was familiar to me.


	18. To Grow Up

A/N: I'm leaving on a long family road trip, so I decided to update early this week. I have no idea if I'll have internet connection where I'm going, so I apologize in advance if anyone tries to contact me for the next two weeks.

**Chapter Eighteen: To Grow Up**

_It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are._

_-E. E. Cummings_

xxXxx

"It feels like a lifetime ago, so I'll be honest about how things were. I was a spoiled brat. Anything I wanted was given to me on a golden platter, and if it wasn't quick enough, the person responsible was punished. I had everything; fine clothes, beautiful horses to ride, and countless girls throwing themselves at my feet. While I indulged myself and spent all my time doing whatever pleased me… it didn't really please me."

"Why is that?" Bearskin asked as Baron resumed his place on her lap.

"Because I had everything, I had no needs, no desires. As strange as it sounds, having everything is a lot like having nothing. There wasn't really much to look forward to, because every day was the same. I knew Father wanted me to settle down with one of the girls I caroused with, but none of them appealed to me for a long term basis. Actually, they got on my nerves, so to escape them and my so-called 'friends', I started taking long rides in the forest bordering the family estate. They weren't exactly exciting compared to the parties, but very relaxing. One day, I went a little farther than normal, and overheard the most _angelic_ voice singing," he said worshipfully, a beautiful smile showing through his filth.

"I take it you investigated?"

"Of course. I followed the voice to a clearing I had never seen before, and in the middle of it was this tall tower, built without doors or windows except for one window near the top. I spent a few hours trying to figure out how to get inside before I saw a middle-aged woman climbing out of the window and hid so she wouldn't see me. After she climbed down and left, I imitated her voice to get whoever was in the tower to throw down what I _thought _was the rope she used to climb down."

"What was it if not a rope?" Bearskin asked as Baron gave a mew of confusion.

"Hair. _Her _hair." He gave a small laugh at the memory. "Boy, was she surprised to see me instead of her mother. Almost knocked me clean off the tower, too. For never having met a man before, she had a mean right hook."

A wide grin spread over the trapper's features. _'So he liked more than just her looks.'_

"It took some pretty quick talking to convince her to calm down enough to have a decent conversation with me. Zela doesn't have any memories of being outside the tower because her mother's _really _overprotective of her. She has reason to, though. Zela's… well, she's amazing. Every other girl I've met spent so much time trying to impress me that I don't really know what they're like, but not my Zela. Because she had never met a stranger before, it didn't occur to her to be anything but herself. Admittedly, she was very naïve, but she made some of the best bread I've ever tasted. But she didn't cater to my every whim. She kept trying to get me to leave before her mother found me there. I understand now why she was so worried, but at the time, I thought she was overreacting."

"You've obviously never seen a mother defending her young," Bearskin muttered under her breath.

"That I have not. Did not, I mean. I found out after a few months of visiting Zela." He shuddered from the memory and began rubbing his arms against the chill of the night.

The trapper pulled a thick blanket out of her satchel and wrapped it around the man. "You were caught?"

"… Yes. Her mother was waiting for me." He pulled the blanket tight over his shoulders. "I didn't see her until after I was in the tower. She hit me on the head with something hard. I blacked out."

"Zela agreed to let her mother do this?" she asked in horror.

He shook his head mournfully. "Zela wasn't there. The last thing I saw was the end of her hair tied to a bedpost. That woman cut off all of her beautiful hair!"

Baron mewed in sympathy and hopped onto the man's lap. The blind man in turn wrapped his arms around the cat for some sorely needed comfort.

"What happened when you woke up?"

"… by the time I did, it was too late. While I was unconscious, Zela's mother cut out my eyes for looking at her child. She also promised that I would never find her again before tossing me out of the tower."

Bearskin shuddered from the idea, since she usually left eyeballs alone when plying her trade. "How did you survive a fall like that?"

"There was a rose bush with long thorns surrounding the tower. I had a lot of cuts and bruises by the time I got free, plus my left foot still acts up in colder weather. I think I started walking on it too soon, but I had no choice. By the time I made it to a village, no one would believe me when I tried to tell them who I was. A few people were nice enough to give me scraps from their tables, but I was still driven out as a madman." Juan managed a wan smile as he held the blanket even tighter around him. "That's pretty much been my life since then; wander around blindly, get rejected, and try to find a lead on Zela. She has to be around somewhere."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to go to your father's place and get some help? There's only so much looking you can do on your own."

He laughed harshly. "Even if I knew which way to go, I wouldn't make it past the gates looking like this. On top of that, the guards probably wouldn't recognize me without my eyes, and the only thing I have that could convince them it's me is with Zela."

Bearskin cocked her head at him while wrapping another blanket over his legs. "What is it she has?"

"My family ring. I gave it to her as a symbol of my wish to marry her, and her mother would have flaunted taking it from her if given the chance. Even if I could return to my life without the ring, I wouldn't want to without Zela. Zela's safety is the only thing that matters to me anymore."

She hummed softly at the declaration. "In that case, get some rest. We've got a lot to do in the morning."

He looked up sharply in her direction. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we'll need to clean you up and figure out where we are. Wherever Zela is, I'm certain she would appreciate you to be in clothes that don't belong in a trash heap."

His mouth opened slightly in wonder. "You mean… you'll help me find her?"

Baron purred the affirmative, patting Juan's cheek before abandoning him in favor of Bearskin's lap.

"I have a hard time turning away people that need help. Sweet dreams, Juan," she wished him while curling up with Baron inside her cloak.

"Sweet dreams… you know, you never did tell me your name," he reminded her as he adjusted himself comfortably on the ground.

"I'm not exactly in a position to, and if I give you a hint, you'll have trouble getting to sleep. I'll tell you in the morning."

Juan looked inquisitively in her direction and bit back a laugh as he drifted to sleep. "If not for your cat, I'd ask if you were Bearskin. But my luck isn't _that _good."

"Why not?" she asked as Baron gave an amused purr.

"Bearskin's only a myth. But it sure would be nice if someone like him existed."

She bit back a smile and allowed sleep to come. She didn't entirely trust herself to reply to that last comment.

ooOoo

Juan's mouth was agape the next morning after a meager breakfast. His hands blindly ran through the corner of the fur cloak, occasionally tugging on it to be sure that it was strapped to someone's shoulders.

"Do you think you're convinced yet? We really do need to get several things done today, you know."

"… I'm sorry, if anything I said offended you last night."

"Relax, I've heard much worse. Now come along, I found a stream that you can wash up at," she encouraged, helping the man to stand up and lean on her arm again.

"But I have to admit that I thought you'd be taller," Juan managed to laugh nervously as Baron walked next to his keeper.

Bearskin bit back a smile. "There's a new one. People are usually confused by my age and lack of facial hair. Watch your step, there are roots here."

Juan did as he was told, still in shock over his good fortune. "I really can't thank you enough for this, Bearskin. I mean, this really is an honor!"

"And it will be _your _honor to get washed up," she informed him as they found the water's edge. She unhooked his arm from hers and pressed a cake of soap and a large blanket to use for a towel into his arms. "Call out if you need anything, but I want to see if there's a village nearby that we can get our bearings at. Baron, can you keep him company?"

He mewed the affirmative, hopping onto a rock to rest comfortably.

Juan shook his head as he began taking his shirt off. "I was so certain that I heard animals can't stand you."

"Baron's the exception to that. I should be back in about an hour," she promised, already turning her back on the man to march back into the trees.

Although her cheeks remained as white as bone, she could feel them turning hot and uncomfortable. Having been raised in a land that measured snow by feet instead of inches, she wasn't used to seeing a lot of skin. She hadn't seen much of Juan's chest before leaving, but it was still enough to make her wish she had seen nothing.

A familiar caw came from her left. Bearskin looked up and almost laughed. "You know, I'm not all that surprised to see you here," she informed the crow as it glared at her.

"Caw!"

"I mean, I'm pretty sure you're not the same crow that's been following me for years, but I'm used to black birds stalking me. Is there a superstition involving crows other than bad luck?" she couldn't help but ask herself.

The bird cawed indignantly, but the trapper shrugged it off. _'Come to think of it, bad things don't really happen when a crow's nearby.'_ "Oh well. That's not what I should be concerned about. Say, do you know if a village is nearby?"

The crow cocked its head and flew deeper into the woods.

"Is that a yes or a no?" she called after it.

A caw was the only reply.

Bearskin shrugged her shoulders and started running after the bird. _'It's worth a try, I guess.'_

The crow began flying faster, ever faster until leading her out of the forest. She blinked in surprise, since the sunlight was much purer away from the trees. But once her eyes adjusted, she was able to see a quaint little town bordering the woods.

The crow from before was now nowhere in sight.

She grinned, and began marching toward the town with a purpose. "Thank you, feathered one."

ooOoo

"It's been longer than an hour," Juan tried not to complain when the trapper rejoined them by the water's edge.

She set the large bag over one shoulder onto the ground and scratched Baron's ears as he pleaded for attention. "I know, but the good news is that I know where we are and I have the supplies we need to keep looking for Zela." But instead of opening the large sack, she made the duke's son sit on the rock Baron had been resting on and pulled out her mother's scissors. "But you're due for a trimming before I give you the clothes I picked up. They're nothing fancy, but at least they're in your sizes." She cut off the bandages covering his eyes.

He yelped from the pain and held his hands to his face. "Frankly, I'd have been happy to wear your cast-offs."

Baron purred in amusement. The man was twice the proportions of the trapper.

"Trust me, that wouldn't work. I have a much slimmer build than you." She quickly began combing through his gnarled hair, straightening it the best she could before cutting it off in huge chunks.

"Could you make it to my shoulders?" he asked hopefully.

"I've already taken off too much for that. I'll go ahead and apologize in advance; this is the first time I've cut someone else's hair."

"On the bright side, I won't have to look at it if it's not done well," he responded with a light-hearted laugh.

"Stop laughing, this is hard enough without a moving target." _'With the way this is going, I don't think I'm going to try to shave his face. He'll have to be satisfied with a trimmed beard.'_

ooOoo

Weeks ticked by. The late summer was turning into autumn and there was still no sign of the girl.

Juan grew more worried as a result, almost constantly scratching the back of his head around the fresh eye bandages. "What if she was taken to another kingdom? What if she's on another continent? What if her mother forced her to marry someone else?"

"What if you are freaking out?" Bearskin tried not to snap at him one night, just as darkness was about to close in.

Baron gave her an annoyed yowl and butted his head against an ankle.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it. Zela's never been out of that tower before, and I don't think she'll be able to survive a winter on her own."

"You know, she could still be with her mother."

"Is that meant to be a comfort?"

She sighed and forced him to sit down on a log. "It's best to make camp for the night. You'll need to watch the fire while I hunt down dinner, Baron."

He meowed just before gathering sticks again.

"That really is unnerving, Bearskin."

"What is?" she asked while using her boot to kick a decent fire pit into the hard earth.

"The way you speak to your cat. One would almost think he was a human from how you talk to him."

Baron froze solid while dragging a bigger branch.

"I see no reason to speak any differently to him than anyone else. You don't mind, right Baron?" she asked over one shoulder while taking out her flint and steel.

He meowed while shaking his head.

"Besides, he's really smart. If he was a dimwit, I wouldn't leave him in charge of a fire." Once the sparks took hold, she scratched Baron's ears affectionately. "Keep an eye on things for me?"

He nodded, angling his head back to lick her wrist, despite the fact that the glove was in the way.

"I should be back soon," she promised in her man voice just before taking off into the woods. _'… Come to think of it, Juan's not the only one confused by Baron's intelligence. What do they expect from a cat anyway?'_ She tried to brush off such thoughts and focus only on the hunt.

Within minutes, she found a mighty stag. The chase he led her on was a merry one that sent her heart to racing, but the outcome was very predictable.

She got up from on top of the deer and patted the still neck affectionately. "Thank you for the race, swift one. Enjoy your final rest." A little searching produced a knife and she got to work.

"_It couldn't be_," a voice whispered after a few minutes of removing organs.

Bearskin looked up at the strange voice and got to her feet; gutting knife held ready. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

A bit of rustling came from the bushes on her left, only to reveal a young woman in rags.

A _pregnant_ woman in rags! She was solidly built, a bit taller than most girls and quite lovely. But her beauty did nothing to disguise the muscles in her arms and slightly exposed legs. It wouldn't be such a stretch to imagine that she had a great right hook.

"Are you really Bearskin?" she asked, her tone a bit more childlike than one would expect from such a solidly built girl. "I thought you were only a myth."

The trapper nodded. She stared in horror at the greatly swollen belly, fearing the worst. "What is your name, young lady?" she asked while placing the blade back into her satchel.

"Rapun… no. I'm Zela. Just Zela."

'_That dirt bag of a nobleman! Well, at least he intends to marry her.' _She managed a careful smile and bowed to the girl. "Tell me, Zela; what would you do if I said I know where Juan is?"

Zela gasped in surprise. "He's alive? Truly?"

"Yes, and he never stopped looking for you. May I have the honor of escorting you to him?"

"Oh yes, _please_," she begged, though a whimper escaped her lips as she stumbled on a rock.

Bearskin was quick to catch her. "Easy there, you have precious cargo to worry about."

Her nose wrinkled in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Your child, of course." The pale woman gestured at her belly.

"Oh don't be silly. How could a child get in there?" she laughed innocently, but winced after a second. She place one hand against her ample stomach, trying to ease the chaos that was likely coming from within. "But I do have to admit it sometimes feels like there's one in there. I'm just fat, really."

Bearskin stared at her in horror. The girl didn't have the slightest idea what was going to happen in a short amount of time. _Very _short, if the size of her belly was any indication.

"Not that I understand how I could have gotten this fat with how little I've been eating since my so-called mother dumped me out here to fend for myself. You are certain Juan still wants me?" she begged, holding one of the trapper's arms almost hard enough to cause bruising. "Even though I'm fat now?"

"He speaks of nothing else, and if he truly loves you, he'll love you even more now. Here," Bearskin offered, producing a pair of fur-lined moccasins from her satchel. "Your feet look cold."

The girl was moved to tears of gratitude as the trapper helped ease them onto her feet. "This is the first time in months my feet have been warm!"

Just in case the girl was still cold, Bearskin wrapped a thick blanket over her shoulders before grabbing the back legs of her prey. "Let's get going. It's a small distance back to camp." _'And __**he**__ can explain what she's going to go through soon!'_

ooOoo

There were many tears and kisses exchanged when Bearskin returned with Zela. The pregnant woman was sobbing uncontrollably, joyful to be reunited with her love, yet mournful for his blinding.

"Darling Zela, you can still love me without my eyes, can't you?" Juan begged as he ran his fingers over the face he loved so well.

"Without a thought, Juan. Can you love me even though I'm fat?"

"No, you'll never be fat! That's one of the things I love about you; you're no wisp like the other girls I've seen. You're solid, you're strong-"

"She's also pregnant," Bearskin growled at him, just keeping herself from adding 'you moron'. She had been keeping herself busy with preparing the meat for dinner, but there was only so long that she was going to keep quiet over the girl's scandalous condition.

Juan's face became pale as his mouth fell open.

"What does that word mean, 'pregnant'?" Zela asked him with childlike confusion.

He didn't answer, but ran his hand over her arm until finding her belly. He placed it here and there until feeling something that made his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

Zela laughed nervously. "Sorry about that. My indigestion's been really strange for months."

"… You're carrying my child," he whispered worshipfully, placing his face against her midsection. "I can't believe it… we're going to be _parents_!"

"What? But we didn't write the stork!"

Baron slapped his paw against his face with an agonized meow.

"My thoughts exactly," she whispered to him as she began cutting up the meat into a stew. "He'll have such fun explaining this one."

He gave an agreeing meow, flattening his ears in an attempt to blot out Juan's badly butchered 'baby talk'.

Bearskin could only wish that she could do the same, but someone needed to make dinner. _'Note to self; get more bowls and such at the next village. This is going to be difficult. How am I going to transport a blind man and a pregnant woman that could easily give birth at any second? If horses didn't mind me, I could just buy a wagon and-'_

"A baby's going to _what_?" Zela screamed in horror, drowning out the trapper's thoughts.

Juan winced from underneath his clean eye bandages. "Please don't make me repeat it, darling. Once was embarrassing enough."

"Bearskin, he was only joking, right?" she begged the pale woman.

But she could only shake her head. "He's more or less explained what's going to happen. I'll try to get the two of you back to his estate before the baby comes, but I don't know if it will be fast enough. You look like you're about due."

She sat on the log, pale with shock. "I am _never _going to do that with you again," she snarled at Juan, who now seemed very uncomfortable.

"Now, Zela, try to stay calm," he tried to soothe her.

"Calm?! How can you ask me to stay calm when you're the one who did this to me?!" she screamed at him.

Juan flinched back fearfully from her powerful lungs. "Um, Bearskin? A little help, please?"

"No. I'm on her side of the argument," she informed him while using a cup to serve up soup. "However, Zela, stress probably isn't good for the baby. It might be a good idea to yell at him after the baby comes instead of before."

The black-haired woman accepted the bowl and snuck another glare at the father of her child. "Fine, I'll wait. Is it going to hurt?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Bearskin looked at her, and then at Juan. _'With how badly he butchered the explanation, she could use some encouragement.' _She knelt down a bit to be at eye level and squeezed Zela's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

Baron also leapt onto the log and padded her arm while purring softly.

"It's going to be one of the most painful times of your life," the trapper told her in as gentle a tone as her man voice would allow. "But you'll know it will be worth it the first time you hold your child. Nothing will be able to compare to it, I promise."

Zela looked terrified at the answer, but after a moment, a brave smile dared to cross her lips. "Thank you, Bearskin. I hope you're right."

"If I wasn't, there would be a lot less people around," she dared to joke, trying to lighten the mood somewhat.

She gave another smile at that. "I wouldn't know. You're only the third person I've ever seen."

"Bearskin's right, Zela," Juan replied, obviously trying to put himself back in her good graces. "Some mothers have eight children or more before they decide they're done, and I'm not going to let you go through it alone. I'll be right here through all of it."

She managed a weak smile at that one. "You had better, Juan Ricardos."

ooOoo

Bearskin _hated _being stared at. As far back as she could remember, she hated being stared at by anyone other than her parents. But there was little she could do about it, other than ignore it.

So that's what she did as she entered another small town, leading Juan with one arm as he did his best to support Zela on his other side. Baron was on the trapper's other side, keeping pace with the three humans perfectly.

"I don't think I'll be able to walk that long again," Zela moaned while trying to step as gently as possible. But that didn't stop her from staring at everything in wonder.

"Don't worry, I've got a plan," Bearskin assured her as she led them to a general store.

Everyone inside stopped what they were doing, staring at the trapper as she led them to the back of the line.

"Can someone spare a chair for this lovely lady?" she grunted while gesturing at Zela, who was nearly whimpering in pain.

One man who had been smoking a cigar immediately stood up and brought his seat over.

"Thank you, sir," the girl said thankfully as the pale woman helped her into it.

"My pleasure. We all thought Bearskin here was a fairy tale."

Now that Zela was taken care of, the trapper leaned down so that Baron could hop onto her shoulders again. "Clearly, I am not. Can we please keep the line moving? I'm certain everyone present has more than this to do today."

"You can go ahead of me," one man offered as three others nodded their heads.

Bearskin couldn't help but feel a bit of déjà vu. Where people had once stepped aside for her out of fear, they now did it with respect. "I wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone."

"No inconvenience, it's an honor!" the store keeper declared as the rest of the men also stepped to the side. "What can I do for you, Bearskin?"

Since the others were being so polite, she stepped forward and began listing the travel supplies she would need to provide for her new traveling companions. There were a few things he didn't have, such as more suitable clothing for Zela, but he was still nice enough to tell her where to go in town.

"Is that about everything?" he asked while filling her bag with breads and vegetables.

"There's one last thing, actually. Do you know anyone that would be willing to sell me a small wagon?"

One of the men that had been waiting in line decided to speak up. "I have one you might like. How small are you hoping for?"

"Just big enough for these two to ride and possibly sleep in," she answered while gesturing at Juan and Zela.

The duke's son was now lovingly rubbing his lady's back and shoulders to help her relax. A blissful smile was on the girl's face, even as she rubbed her huge belly with one hand.

"It'll be slightly cramped, but I think it'll work, if you want to take a look," the man decided after a moment's worth of thought.

"I would love to. Baron, can you stay with Juan and Zela?" she asked while paying the storekeeper.

He meowed once and hopped off her shoulders to place himself close to Zela's feet. The girl smiled and managed to lean over just enough to pick him up and set him against one shoulder to rub his fur.

"We don't need a babysitter, Bearskin," Juan complained, unknowingly sparking her mischievous side.

"Be sure to keep them out of trouble for me," she finished with a smirk, nodding at the slightly dirt-covered man. "Where is the wagon?"

"Right this way, Bearskin," he answered, leading the way out of the store, through town, and to a small shabby house that was on the verge of being a hut.

ooOoo

Roughly an hour later, Juan and Zela were sitting quite close to each other on a small but well-made wagon, drawn not by a horse, but by the cursed trapper herself. The bags of supplies were in the back with Baron on one of them, pouting over not being allowed to walk with his keeper.

"Don't you find this demeaning at all?" the blind man couldn't help but ask as she settled for a brisk walk.

"Between pulling a wagon and carrying Zela while guiding you, I'll take the wagon. No offense meant, Zela."

"None taken," she replied, wincing slightly as the wagon hit a stone in the road. "This is much faster, really."

"My thoughts exactly. I smell snow in the air and we want to get you two home as soon as possible."

"Um, Bearskin?" Juan asked nervously, putting an arm around Zela's shoulders. "Do you think Father will want me back after I explain everything? I mean, Zela and I aren't married and we're having a baby."

"That one was _your _idea, darling," his love reminded him, her eyes turning hard again.

"… I don't know your father, Juan. But I'll tell you this; if he's anything like mine, he'll be so relieved to have you come back that he'll run to meet you. He'll do whatever it takes to make the best out of a bad situation."

Baron looked up between the two humans, but no one noticed.

"Your father sounds like a good man," Juan answered, only a little comforted by her words.

A sad smile crossed her lips, one that she didn't have to hide since she was facing away from them. "One of the best. His cooking was terrible, but he was still one of the best."

"What about your mother? What was she like?" Zela suddenly asked, maybe a little miffed about all the man talk.

Every muscle in her body tensed, although her heart ached for the woman she barely remembered. "She was one of the bravest people I have ever had the honor to meet. I wish everyone could be as brave as her." _'Including me.'_

Juan sighed softly. "I wish mine was like that. Father says I got my partying habits from her."

"It's never too late to change, Juan. I can think of two very good reasons to shun that kind of living, and both of them are right next to you."

He smiled in a foolish manner and rubbed his love's belly with his free hand. "They're both worth it."

That simple statement made Zela's heart melt before kissing him impulsively.

On that happy note, they continued in silence until sunset. They made camp, Zela helped her make dinner and they got some rest. The next day was much the same, as was the following day.

But on the fourth night, the still midnight silence was broken by a panicked shout.

"Bearskin! We need your help!" Juan nearly screamed from his place in the wagon.

"What? What is it," Bearskin slurred, rising to her feet in a fighting stance.

Baron was equally miffed about the interrupted rest, since he had been in her arms again.

They got their answer as Zela cried out in pain from her place in the back of the wagon. "The baby's coming! The baby's _coming_!"


	19. A True Professional

**Chapter Nineteen: A True Professional**

_The mark of a true professional is giving more than you get._

_-Robert Kirby_

xxXxx

The next several hours were some of the more unpleasant ones in Bearskin's life. She learned things about child birthing that she never thought to ask before. More than she wanted to know. But with the duke's son being blind and uneducated in medical terms, she was literally the only one for miles that could help the poor girl. The process was extremely messy, making the trapper tear off her gloves and roll her sleeves up as far as they could go, even though she didn't want anything to do with what was coming out of Zela.

By a miraculous combination of instinct and luck, Bearskin had the baby in her arms before daybreak. One light slap on the back and a healthy cry was soon heard.

"How's the baby?" Juan begged while holding Zela's tired hand.

"She's beautiful," Bearskin assured him while using the contents of a water skin to clean the baby up before wrapping it in one of her softer blankets. "You did wonderful, Zela."

"There… really was a person in me?" she whispered, so tired from the unexpected ordeal.

"A daughter. She has your hair," the trapper answered, carefully wrapping the girl's arms around her child.

"Oh… she's so tiny," Zela crooned as Juan reached over and gently touched his child's face after a few seconds of prodding.

"Hello baby," he greeted her, his voice thick with controlled sobs. "We're your parents, sweetheart."

The little girl made some grunts and whimpers at the statement before crying again.

"She's hungry. Juan, don't make me tell her how to feed the baby," Bearskin begged as she covered Zela's upper body with a blanket.

"No, you've already done plenty," he agreed as the trapper grabbed her satchel from where she had tossed it aside earlier.

"If you don't mind, I _really _want to change my clothes right now."

"We'll be right here," Juan assured her as he began whispering to his intended.

Certain that they were fine, Bearskin began jogging into the woods with Baron hot on her trail.

"That was one of the most disgusting things I've ever helped with," she couldn't help but whisper to Baron, who had stayed clear of the wagon during the birthing.

He meowed in agreement and might have brushed against one leg if it wasn't covered in bleached blood.

A part of her wanted to feel indignant that he hadn't tried to help her, but she was willing to be fair; what could a cat have done to help Zela or her baby?

At last, Bearskin spotted a cool clear stream. She stepped into it and began scrubbing her clothes with a bar of soap, for once not caring that she was still dressed while taking a bath.

But Baron nonetheless chose to study a large bush bordering the side of the stream, respecting her privacy through and through.

Once she was satisfied that she and her clothes were clean, she stepped out of the water and changed into a dry set of clothes. "We should probably rest today and maybe get some laundry done. I'm pretty sure that Zela's not feeling up to being jostled around inside a moving wagon right now."

He meowed in agreement, but yowled when she made to walk back to camp.

She looked over her shoulder in surprise. Baron wasn't studying the bush anymore; he was tearing off leaves with his teeth.

The trapper took a closer look at the bush, surprised that she didn't recognize it. "I take it you're doing that for a reason?"

He nodded and gestured at the pile to encourage her to pick up the leaves. Since he had never led her wrong, she gathered them into a handkerchief carefully.

Once the leaves were in her possession, Baron ran to the water's edge and put one paw into it while looking at her.

"Get water as long as we're here?"

He meowed with relief and made her run back to camp once she had a bucket full of water.

"Bearskin, something's wrong!" Zela called out worriedly as the two returned to camp. "She's eaten, but now she won't stop fussing!"

"Hand her over," Bearskin sighed, pulling another blanket out of the satchel and throwing it over a shoulder.

"You know what's wrong?" Juan asked with surprise as she placed his child against the blanket-covered shoulder with care.

"I've seen a few mothers do this with new babies after a feeding. Pay attention, Zela." Very gently, she began alternately patting and rubbing the fussy baby's back.

Not only did the baby quiet down, but a small burp later, the blanket was no longer so clean.

"There you go, little lady. I have a feeling that we'll be running out of clean blankets in the near future," she informed Zela while cleaning the remaining spit off the baby's cheeks. "We should probably rest today. That is, _you _rest while I and Juan do laundry while we have the chance. The snow could fall any day now and you need time to recover."

Zela nodded as Juan took a turn with their child. He cradled her so carefully in his arms, using his fingers to see his beloved daughter. Thankfully, the baby was taking all the prodding in stride.

By now the sun had fully risen.

"She has your eyes," Zela informed him softly, tears falling down her face again. But unlike the ones before it, these seemed to be born of joy.

"She's so _perfect_. Zela, let's name her after Bearskin," Juan said impulsively, making the trapper jump in surprise.

"Please don't do that," she pleaded in her man voice, but he was firm.

"What is your real name? I'm pretty sure I heard somewhere that Bearskin is only a title. We can find a female counterpart for your real name."

'_A little easier than you think.' _"I am forbidden from speaking or writing my true name until after I find my cure, hence why I need the title."

"I still want to name her after you. If not for you, we would both be wandering lost still, and Zela could have died with the baby. We owe you so much, Bearskin, more than we could ever repay. Isn't there a way we can compromise?"

Since he seemed set on it, she thought hard. _"_Bearskin. Berry. Beryl. Skina? What about Kina?"

"Kina," Juan whispered, his hand still cupping the face of his child. "What do you think, Zela?"

"It's perfect. Hello, Kina," she cooed as Bearskin looked around for Baron.

He was gathering sticks for a fire. Catching on that the water was for boiling, she emptied half of the bucket into her little pot and set the remaining portion in the wagon. "Your spare dresses are in the bag you were using for a pillow and here are some rags and water. I hope you'll forgive me for not helping you clean up."

"I'm glad you're not offering. Thank you, Bearskin," Zela told her with true gratitude, although her eyes were still on her child.

"So, what are we doing here, Baron?" the trapper asked as she started the fire.

"Meow meow." He gestured at her satchel.

She sighed and pulled out the leaves he had gathered. "You know, it would be really nice if I could understand you."

He nodded, gestured for her to dump the leaves into the pot and patted her satchel again.

"How about _you _pull out what you want instead of playing yes or no with me?" she offered, holding the satchel open for him.

He shuddered, probably remembering the short time he had spent in the bag. But he still had the courage to reach in and start pulling out her herb jars with his little white paws.

When he had eight, he patted the first one once before gesturing at the pot. "Meow."

"A little bit of that one?"

He nodded, making the girl follow his instructions. "Meow meow."

"More of the next one?"

"Meow."

Slowly but surely, the trapper added a bit of each herb into the slowly boiling water, although there was a bit of trouble between their definitions of 'more' and 'less'.

"What on _earth _are you doing with that cat?" Juan asked after a few minutes of eavesdropping.

"I think we're making tea, but I'm not entirely sure. All the herbs he chose promote healing," Bearskin explained as Baron nodded his head happily. "Is it for Zela?"

"Meow!"

She grinned and scratched his ears affectionately. "You're such a good friend, Baron."

"Wait, you expect me to _drink _whatever's in there?" Zela asked in horror.

"You got it. Don't worry; Baron wouldn't take chances with your health. A few more minutes of boiling?"

He nodded, taking the opportunity to lick her cheek affectionately.

ooOoo

The snow began falling later that day. It was thankfully light at first, but it just kept coming.

"Bearskin, _please _say you have another blanket. The baby needs to be changed again," Juan begged a week after his daughter was born.

"Don't tell me we're already out of diapers!" she groaned. "I must have bought at least a hundred at the last village."

"They would have lasted longer if she'd stop leaking from one or both ends," Zela groaned, looking horribly tired.

In fact, all of them were tired. Kina slept quite peacefully while they were traveling in the wagon, but demanded constant attention all night long at the threat of crying loudly. For such a little person, she had _very _powerful lungs.

Bearskin pushed on the wood brace in front of the wagon with one hand while searching through her satchel for another blanket.

No such luck.

"You'll have to use bandages, it's all I have left," she said apologetically while awkwardly handing three rolls of cloth back.

"Meow meow?" Baron begged as he jogged at her side.

"I don't think so. According to the map, it's going to take another three days to reach Juan's home."

The next meow sounded like a moan.

Snow was still falling by the time they made camp for the night. With speed, she managed to erect a large tarp over the back of the wagon for the family to sleep in. A smaller tarp was waiting for her and Baron.

"It's getting colder," Zela whimpered as she and Juan wrapped themselves in blankets with baby-spit stains.

"I know, but we'll get there, don't you worry. Would you like me to take Kina for a few hours tonight?" the trapper offered.

The look of gratitude was the only answer she needed.

Baron pouted, since he couldn't sleep when she wasn't, but still wrapped his body over her shoulders as she walked the baby around the trees surrounding the wagon.

Being entertained wasn't enough. The little girl distinctly preferred for the one holding her to be walking.

After a while, though, she had to lean against a tree, still rocking the babe in her arms. "She really is adorable, isn't she, Baron?"

The cat answered by licking the baby's face once. She scrunched up her face, but at least she didn't start crying again.

_'It feels good to hold a baby. If only I could get to hold one of my own someday.' _She sighed sadly at the thought, making Baron look at her worriedly.

"Bearskin?" Zela suddenly asked, startling the two.

The trapper looked around the tree to see her female charge hesitantly walk up, still holding a dirty blanket over her shoulders. "Shouldn't you be resting? This little lady is hard to keep up with."

"I couldn't sleep. I…" She shook her head angrily. "I can't stop thinking about my mother and what she's done."

Shifting Kina into one arm, Bearskin squeezed one shoulder after she drew close enough. "You can talk to me about it. I don't mind."

Zela gave her a weak smile while taking back her child. "It's… just… Why didn't she _tell _me what was coming?" she wept, holding Kina close. "Why didn't she warn me of this? She had to have known I was pregnant, or she wouldn't have been so angry over my random sicknesses and my dresses not fitting right! I never told her about Juan, so how could she have known I was seeing a man unless she knew Kina was coming?"

"It _was_ cruel of her to just abandon you without a word. Maybe she was hoping that the birth would kill both of you."

Baron gave a shudder of horror.

Zela wrapped her arms protectively around her daughter, her expression fierce like a lion. "I thought she loved me. She told me she did. What kind of mother turns her back on her child?"

"One that doesn't deserve to be a mother," Bearskin replied in an angry tone. But then she sighed. "Zela, I think she wanted you to belong to her and no one else. She probably did love you, but it was the wrong kind. She didn't tell you about becoming a woman because she wanted you to stay a little girl. _Her _little girl."

"I'm not little anymore," she snarled, rocking the baby like Bearskin had shown her.

"No, and if her love had been the right kind, she would never have locked you in that tower. You would have been prepared for when Juan came."

Baron meowed something in one of her ears, the tone strangely sarcastic.

"That would have been nice. Not that I regret Kina, even if she's a handful, but… I would have done things differently." She looked down at her feet in shame. "What will happen if Juan's father abandons us as well?"

"Let's worry about getting you to him first. If he doesn't want the three of you, we'll work something else out. I won't leave you until after I know you are either provided for or can provide for yourselves."

Zela's eyes overflowed with tears, making the girl impulsively hug her. Baron yelped, since the action made him fall off the trapper's shoulders, but at least he was unharmed when he fell to the ground on his feet.

Even better, because she was stronger than most people, Bearskin was able to hug her back a little harder without having to worry about breaking any bones. "I want you to remember this, Zela. Real love is more than just feeding and clothing someone, although that's all Kina wants right now. It's also teaching that person to be independent and to make their own choices. I don't want Kina to go through what you have."

"Dang right she won't," Zela snarled, her eyes becoming more mature than they were only an hour ago. "_I'm _going to let her play in the grass and be free. I won't let anyone lock _her _in a tower."

"Good girl," Bearskin approved with a smile that betrayed a little more of her true gender than she would have liked. "Life at Juan's place probably won't be easy, but if you're brave and do your best, things will work out. You already have this little lady rooting for you," she added while rubbing Kina's soft hair. "I'll be rooting for you too."

Baron meowed, rubbing against one of Zela's legs as if to say 'I will too'.

Zela gave her a wide smile and a big hug with one arm. "Thanks, Bearskin. If my baby needed to be named after someone, I'm glad it's … you…" She suddenly froze, long enough to make Kina cry out in protest.

"What's wrong?" Bearskin asked while turning around. Her jaw dropped in shock.

Standing right there, not even ten feet away, was a _unicorn_! It was tall, maybe a good five inches taller than Zela, and the horn glistened in the moonlight as if it were made of glass.

Even stranger, the unicorn was staring solely at Bearskin.

"It's so beautiful… what does he want?" Zela asked worriedly.

"I don't know. Other than Baron, animals can't stand me," the cursed girl answered uneasily, keeping her eyes on the fantastic creature.

The unicorn finally lost its patience and marched up to her. Then it carefully took a hold of her sleeve with its teeth and began tugging insistently.

"I'm pretty sure that means I need to follow. I guess I'll be back when I can; let's go, Baron."

He mewed the affirmative as she nodded at the unicorn.

Since the hint was acknowledged, it released her sleeve and began running deeper into the woods. It was so fast, that the trapper had difficulty keep up with it and Baron with her.

Thankfully, the unicorn slowed down as the path became rocky and slick with ice and led out to a stone cliff.

Bearskin gaped as she walked to the unicorn's side. The forest was rolled out before them like a great carpet and she could see a beautiful city in the distance, crowned by a castle that had to be a royal abode. Everything seemed to be bleached white by the moonlight and snow.

"Wow," she whispered, just as the unicorn nudged her with its head.

It gave her an annoyed look and used its horn to point almost directly down. She followed the suggestion and gasped again, but in horror.

A good twenty feet below them was a small ledge, on which was a unicorn colt crying softly in pain. One of the legs was at a funny angle.

"I'll do my best," she promised the unicorn, not seeing a point in using her man voice. "Baron, keep the mother-"

It neighed indignantly.

"Father?" she guessed again with a sheepish smile.

He nodded, still looking worriedly down the cliff's side.

"Keep the father company while I go after the little one," she instructed as she pulled a long rope from the satchel.

Baron meowed indignantly, following her to a large tree.

"No buts, mister. I'll have my hands full with the little one and the rope," she informed him as she tied one end to the tree and walked the remaining part to the edge of the cliff.

The ground gave away under her feet, but even as she yelped in surprise, her grip on the rope tightened so that her fall was short and uneventful. Her heart was racing, but no harm had befallen her.

"Baron, get away from the edge right now," she told him in a firm tone when he looked over it anxiously. "I need to focus on the little one."

He gave her a look that was filled with worry, but at least he did as he was told. Now that the distraction was done, she carefully used the rope to climb down the face of the cliff and to the ledge.

The unicorn colt was neighing in terror and tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go.

"Shh, don't worry, I'm a friend," she crooned, but when she reached out to pat his head, he avoided the touch. "I won't hurt you, I swear! Your father could cut the rope and kill me if I tried something that dumb!"

An agreeing neigh was heard from above, as well as a series of sounds she didn't recognize.

Whatever it was, it made the colt calm down as Bearskin maneuvered herself right next to the small ledge. She bit her lip worriedly; how was she going to do this? If she grabbed him from around the middle like she occasionally did with Baron, it would be really uncomfortable, plus a lot harder to climb the rope. The cloven hooves wouldn't be able to hold onto her very well and the rope wasn't long enough to tie around the colt.

"I probably should have figured this part out before coming down here," she admitted, banging one hand against her forehead in hopes of a brilliant idea.

Surprisingly, one came.

"Just a few more seconds, please," she begged the colt, tying the remaining rope around her waist to keep her in place. Once her weight was on the rope and her legs bracing against the cliff's side, she searched her bag for the braided bandages the mermaids had used to guide her boat.

A little shorter than what she was hoping for, but at least she had enough bandages to braid a second length.

The father unicorn neighed his fury as she made quick work of the braid.

"Keep calm, sir. There's a method to my madness!" she called up at him before tying off the end of the braid. Once both were in her hands, she swung herself to right over the ledge, and over a very confused colt.

"I know this is going to seem strange, but I need you to trust me. This is the safest way I can think of to take you up and I won't let you fall. Can you stay calm?"

The colt was still scared of her, but managed to nod. As gently as she could manage, she slipped one rope under the pained unicorn's body and slipped the other one under for a cross pattern, although the intersection was between the front and back legs.

Bearskin managed to turn around in her rope sling and pulled the ends of the cross over her shoulders and chest. As she tied the ends tight, the colt became pressed against her back, much like a traveling pack.

Once the unicorn was strapped to her, the trapper climbed the rope as smoothly as she was able to spare as much pain as possible.

The father unicorn grabbed the rope with his teeth and began pulling, showing incredible strength as the trapper nearly shot up the side and climbed over the edge.

"O-Okay, that was interesting," she laughed shakily, walking a small distance from the edge in favor of solid ground.

The father didn't even wait for her to release his child before happily nuzzling the colt. It neighed happily through the pain as Bearskin gently laid it across the grass, Baron at her side once more.

"This is no good. Your leg's broken." She unbraided some of the bandages she had, and carefully cleaned out an impressive cut before binding it up. "I'll need to set the bone so it can heal properly, but it will hurt."

The father lay down next to his child and ran his face over the little one's. But the look he gave to the trapper said he understood what she was trying to say.

A muffled meow caught her attention, making the pale woman look over. Baron was dragging a branch close with his teeth, one that was thick and straight enough to be a decent brace.

She grinned at him while accepting it. "Thank you, Baron. This is exactly what the doctor ordered." She quickly adjusted the leg bone, making the colt neigh in pain.

Even as the father soothed his child, she carefully bound the splint to the leg, making sure the knots, while tight and firm, could be pulled apart with teeth when it was healed. "I'll assume that as a unicorn, you're familiar with herbs?"

He nodded once and listened carefully as she listed what things his child should eat for the next two weeks.

"… but he'll also need plenty of water. Would you like me to carry him to another place for you?"

The father nodded, standing up to lead the way.

"Shh, I'm a friend," Bearskin soothed the colt as she gently picked him up, being careful to avoid hitting the broken leg. She did her best to keep her pace smooth as Baron walked by her side.

The colt still neighed in agony, which made the father look at him with deep pain.

The cursed woman shared that pain. Although there was nothing she could do to take the pain away, she thought of something that might help distract him from it. "_Come stop your crying, it'll be all right. Come take my hand, hold it tight._"

Baron's head snapped upwards, making him stare at her as the father looked over his shoulder curiously.

"_I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, don't you cry._" She gently kissed the stunned colt's forehead around the horn before continuing her mother's lullaby. "_For one so small, you seem so strong. My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here, don't you cry._"

The colt had stopped crying all right, his eyes half-lulled to sleep. Even the father seemed effected by her song, despite the fact that she wasn't a fraction as good a singer as mermaids were.

Actually, her voice sounded a bit scratchy from using the man voice too much, but if the unicorns liked it, who was she to be a critic?

When she had repeated her lullaby three times, the unicorn led them to a cave hidden behind a frozen waterfall. Baron shuddered from being close to all that slick ice, but was still able to follow her inside the cave.

Another unicorn was there, her slightly swollen belly saying that she was a pregnant female.

'_Thank heaven she isn't due soon!' _But she kept her face calm as the mother unicorn neighed inquiringly at her mate.

Sounds passed between them until the female was staring at Bearskin with deep gratitude.

"Where would you like me to set him?" she asked politely.

The mother walked a little deeper into the cave and carefully laid down in a drier part of the cave. Then she gestured to her side.

Bearskin gently placed the sleeping unicorn next to his mother, waking only briefly when she began nuzzling him.

Once he was arranged comfortably, the trapper pulled her best bucket out of the satchel. "This should help you out with getting him food and water. Is there anything else you want us to do?"

The father shook his head, using his teeth to grab the bucket's handle and set it aside.

"Then we'd better head back. My charges have bad knacks for getting into trouble."

Baron gave a loud meow that sounded like an agreement.

But then the father stepped in front of them when the trapper and cat tried to leave. His neighs were very soft and warm, even as he lowered his head before them.

For a wild second, Bearskin thought he was _bowing _to them!

Then she realized the way his horn was starting to glow. Very carefully, he pressed the tip of it against one small stone on the ground, smooth from all the water. Once the stone was glowing as bright as the horn, he did the same to another stone.

Then he stepped back, looking from the stones and to the trapper.

"Those are for us?" she guessed, making him nod. As she bent down to grab them, Baron hopped onto her shoulders while shivering slightly.

She pulled her hood over to keep him warm as she stared at the stones as they stopped glowing. "They're beautiful, sir. Thank you."

He seemed to smile and then bowed for real before letting them leave his cave.

"May good fortune fall to you," she wished as she eased herself out and began jogging back to camp. She slipped the stones into her satchel for now, since she didn't want to lose them.

It was only then when she realized just how bone-tired she was. Pulling a cart all day, walking a baby for over an hour, and then climbing a cliff?

"I have a great idea, Baron. Let's sleep in just a little," she confided, earning only a yawn for an answer.

It had been a long day for him, too.

ooOoo

The snow was falling a bit heavier by the time the wagon creaked its way to the front gate of the Ricardos mansion.

The soldiers guarding it stared at Bearskin with open mouths as she pulled the wagon into a stop.

"Um, hello," Juan said nervously, making the two look at him nervously. "I can't tell who's guarding today, but could one of you tell Father that I'm home?"

"_Juan_? No, it couldn't be. He's never been that polite," one guard sniffed, dismissing the blind man.

"Vagabondage improved his manners. Please let us through," Bearskin said in a calm, yet firm tone.

"Listen, Bearskin, do you have _any _idea how many have tried to claim that they're Juan? This one's just duped you into helping."

"Would the ring help?" Zela asked, passing Kina to Juan before pulling on a thin cord around her neck.

Sure enough, a ring was strung on it.

"Allow me," the trapper said, carefully helping the girl out of the wagon and close to the guards so that they could inspect the symbol of rank.

The quieter man paled. "This is definitely the same ring Juan wore." He tried to take a closer look at the man on the wagon, but still had trouble recognizing him through the bandages over his eyes.

"I know that voice; Miguel? Miguel, you used to have to carry me home on your saddle when I drank too much at all those stupid parties!" Juan exclaimed while rocking his daughter.

"That's good enough for me. Your father's been waiting, you know," the guard said with an easier smile as he and the other one opened the gates wide.

"I'll walk," Zela assured Bearskin when she made to help her back onto the wagon.

"I'll walk too," Juan decided, gingerly getting off the wagon with the trapper's help. "He's been waiting? Truly?"

"Yes, now hurry out of the cold," Miguel assured him while escorting the travelers across the extensive grounds and up the front steps.

Juan had trouble with the stairs, but Bearskin and Zela were right there to help him keep his balance. Zela even took back Kina to make things easier.

But before they could open the large door, it flew open on its own, revealing an older man in rich clothes.

"_Juan_!" he sobbed, grabbing the man and pulling him close for a rib-breaking hug. "My boy, I **knew **it was you!"

"_Papa_," Juan sobbed, holding onto the man desperately. "I'm so sorry, Papa. I've been such a fool, and I've missed you so."

"Where have you been? Heavens above, what happened to your eyes?"

"My mother cut them out after she found out I was seeing Juan behind her back," Zela reported, her voice still bearing the guilt of the action.

The Grand Duke Alejandro looked at her with surprise, as well as the child in her arms. Then he looked at Bearskin, who once again had Baron lying over her shoulders. "… Let's… all head inside. It looks like all of you have quite a story to tell."

ooOoo

Alejandro was stunned, when their separate stories were finished. They were by a roaring fire now, enjoying warm cups of tea. Except for the duke, who had Kina in his arms. She had burped on his nice clothes, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Son… I don't know what to think of all this. You do truly love Zela?"

Juan nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "She brings out the best in me, Papa. Even without my eyes, I think she's beautiful."

She blushed happily at the proclamation.

The man grinned widely and stepped forward to hug the girl warmly. "Then welcome home, daughter. You too, my little flower," he cooed at Kina, who gurgled adorably at him. "This may be a bit scandalous, but I think we'll manage. I think I even know how to contact a witch that can make you a new pair of eyes!"

"Really, Papa? You'll accept us, just like that?" Juan asked hopefully.

"You already have a better relationship than I ever had with your mother. We'll need to contact a priest for a quick wedding, but we should manage whatever comes our way. Speaking of which, Bearskin," he suddenly directed his attention to the trapper as she allowed Baron to drink the last of her tea. "May I speak to you privately?"

"As you wish," she complied, although Baron crawled onto her shoulders as she stood up to follow the man out of the room.

Once they were down the hallway from the parlor, the grand duke looked at her nervously, still rocking Kina in his arms. "Bearskin… I am beyond grateful that you have returned my son and his family to me. But I'm afraid that I must ask you to leave as soon as possible."

She cocked her head as Baron mewed indignantly.

"It's not you," he assured her hurriedly. "But the queen of Thegui has an alliance with the Lutian king and he has declared that if you are found in our borders, we are to deliver you to him to be sent back to her."

Bearskin smiled thankfully while bowing. "I'll leave right now so you can claim I got away too fast. May I ask where the closest border is?"

"Due south of here, three days if you avoid the roads. But first, I want you to follow me." With a kind smile, he led the way down the hall and a staircase to the cellar. "Nothing I have will be enough to express my gratitude, but I hope you'll accept payment for returning my family and helping Zela give birth to my _beautiful_ granddaughter." He hugged her impulsively, making her coo at him again.

"I _did _spend a lot of money on diapers and cloths for Kina," the trapper was willing to admit. "But since I have no use for the wagon, you're free to keep that."

"Nonsense. I'll buy it from you," he replied stubbornly, passing the baby to her in order to unlock what had to be his treasure room.

Baron leaned down enough to lick the little girl's head affectionately, making her coo at him.

She bit her lip while rocking Kina in one arm. "But if it's general knowledge that Queen Blanche wants me back, how come no one harassed me in any of the villages I visited on the way here?"

The door was open and Alejandro was able to find a large velvet bag to start pouring gold and jewels into. "Despite the proclamation, you're generally thought of as a compelling myth that everyone only _wishes _was true and the villages you mentioned are all full of good people. But rest assured; once various bounty hunters and such get wind that you're real, they will try to take you."

"Over my dead body," she replied in as pleasant a tone as her man voice could manage.

Baron shuddered, but gave an angry meow that sounded like an agreement.

"But since you insist on buying the wagon, I think I know what I want for it."

He stopped trying to stuff another bag of gold into the velvet bag to look at her. "What would you like?"

She held Kina a little closer and kissed her head. "A book on child birth, if you have one. If Zela wasn't such a strong healthy young woman, we might have lost both her and the baby. It was one of the least pleasant things I've ever done, but if I'm called on to deliver again, I want to be prepared if the mother isn't as fortunate as Zela."

The look of respect in his eyes multiplied greatly. "I think we have enough time to find one for you."


End file.
